


I'll Walk With You

by zestycrouton



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Post-Game(s), Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-18 10:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 94,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zestycrouton/pseuds/zestycrouton
Summary: 'The battle is over, the Calamity has ended, and everything you knew and loved is gone for good. And yeah, you can't ever get it back, but... maybe we don't have to. The path in front of us may be long and uncertain, but it leads to something new, and... Zelda, no matter how hard it gets, I'll be right here. And I'll walk with you.'A collection of moments involving our favorite Hero and Princess as they struggle to adapt. Post-BotW.





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of one-shot style chapters meant to parallel the 18 memories found in BotW (though I guess there are more now with the DLC. Whatever). The tone of each chapter is different; some are silly and playful, others sad, others tense, others sweet, etc. I'll post one chapter a day from here 'til the end.

Rain tumbled down from the roiling storm clouds above them in sheets thick enough to obscure the final rays of the dying sun. Evening was fast approaching, yet the grounds of Central Hyrule Field were already dark as midnight thanks to the raging storm above. The wind howled across the plains, chilling already dampened skin as the ominous boom of thunder sounded loud and clear overhead.

Almost invisible in the darkness, three figures hastened wearily through the wind and rain. Two exhausted, battle-weary Hylians, and one particularly agitated horse.

If this was the Goddess’s way of celebrating the end of the Calamity, she had a funny way of showing it…

For what felt like the umpteenth time in the last half an hour, Link unclenched his jaw to mumble an encouraging, “We’re almost there, Princess”, not really bothering to listen for a reply. Raindrops stung against his face like nettles; he could only imagine how she must be feeling, clad only in that old, ceremonial dress. Her face, neck, shoulders, arms and lower legs were all completely bare to the elements. If he didn’t get her out of this weather soon, she’d catch her death of cold, and then where would they be?

“It’s fine, Link…” He thought he heard her murmur from beside him, but with the howl of the wind loud in his ears, it was hard to tell. If only he could’ve gotten her up on the horse… but with that dress of hers, riding would be impossible unless she tried it side-saddle, which she never had been very good at. He didn’t trust the footing anyway. The rain had turned the ground to mud, and all three of them were prone to slipping and sliding as they made their way down the well-worn path. The last thing he needed was her taking a spill off Epona’s back and cracking her head on a stone. Not after everything they’d been through.

A warm light pierced the gloom just up ahead. A monstrous equine figure emerged from out of the darkness. They’d finally made it.

Riverside Stable.

Link barely had time to let out a sigh of relief before he felt something tugging on his sleeve.

It was Zelda. She looked wary.

“You mustn’t use my name. Or my title.”

Her plea needed no explanation. They’d only just overcome the Calamity and escaped the ruins of Castle Town when the downpour began. They hadn’t had a moment to rest or clean themselves up from the battle; Zelda had offered up the possibility of them taking shelter in the ruins of the castle, but Link’s concerns about remaining monsters coupled with the lack of food or clothing in the drafty ruin had managed to change her mind. Actually, she hadn’t been that hard to convince; Link had the distinct impression that she wanted absolutely anything but to return to that castle again. She’d been a prisoner there for the last one-hundred years, after all. If taking her away from there made her happy, then he would do so. Even through a thunder storm.

Still. What she needed now more than anything was a hot meal, a bath, and a good night’s rest. She was putting on a brave face, but he could tell from the bags under her eyes that she was exhausted. It wouldn’t do to have the common folk at the stable know that their princess had finally returned to them only to see her as this tired, bedraggled, completely drenched ragdoll of a girl. It wasn’t her physical appearance Zelda was concerned with, he knew, but rather her standing in their eyes. The people wanted to believe that their ruler was perfect. The mask she’d been forced to wear all her life chaffed but she refused to doff it, even for a moment. He couldn’t help but respect her strength, for all that he loathed what it did to her.

So instead of argue, Link merely nodded.

“As you say, my lady.”

She pursed her lips, clearly dissatisfied. She would have to deal with it, however; he could hardly go treating her like she was any other traveler. He was her knight, her vassal; he would show her the respect she was inherently due. Funny how his mask had never chaffed him, at least not insofar as dealing with her was concerned… he wondered why that was.

The moment they reached the stable, the massive head of the great horse god Malayna towering over them through the storm like a monstrous wraith, Link spared no time before hastily ushering Zelda under the protection of the awning and out of the rain.

“Ho, travelers!” Came the cheerful cry of the stable’s owner, Ember, who approached the duo from behind the counter with a practiced smile. “Come in, come in! Quite the storm we’re having, eh? Came out of nowhere it did! Ah, but rest assured you’ll find a warm, dry bed tonight her at Riverside-“

“Excuse me,” Link cut in, his impatience shining through uncharacteristically. “I’m sorry, but is there any place my lady can dry off?”

The stable owner, mildly irked at having been interrupted in the middle of his sales pitch, finally looked at their faces for the first time. He gaped in surprise.

“Why- Master Link! I hadn’t realized it was you! And who might your companion be? My lady…?”

He trailed off, his eyes growing wide as he ogled her. Link felt his jaws clench as he bit back an annoyed growl.

Sure, he couldn’t exactly blame the man; even windswept and soaked to the bone, Zelda struck a breathtaking figure. Her sunshine hair hung in darkened clumps about her face, individual wisps and strands plastered to the flushed skin of her cheeks and neck. The gold of her necklace and armbands flickered in the torchlight and made her out instantly to be a noblewoman of some sort, something Link was certain the stable owner wasn’t used to seeing. Though her dress was white, the material was thankfully thick enough to have not become transparent in the rain, though it clung soddenly to her thighs in a rather provocative manner. When the man’s eyes dipped low, Link felt his patience snap.

“Ember.” Link cut in, rather louder than necessary. Gods, could he not see she was shivering?! “If you please. My lady needs a place to dry off and change.”

Ember’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but a moment later he was all business, calling out orders, martialing his family to assist their guests. His wife gathered up Epona’s reigns and guided her over towards the stables while one of his sons ran to fetch some towels. Unfortunately, he had nothing like a changing room in the stable, but the beds had hangings that could be drawn down to offer privacy. Nodding in thanks, Link took Zelda by the arm and quickly led her back towards the furthest bed, waving an off-handed greeting across the room to Beedle the merchant, the only other guest the stable seemed to have at the moment.

“Link,” Zelda hissed, struggling to keep up with Link’s fast pace, “wait! I haven’t anything to change into!”

Link blinked. Oh, that was right… they hadn’t had time to find her any clothing yet… Still, she couldn’t sleep in that sodden dress, she’d get sick. And she wasn’t about to sleep naked, not in a public stable where someone might see her. They’d have to find another solution.

“I’ll fetch you something of mine from my saddlebags.” He offered quietly, noticing the young boy with the towels hurrying towards them. “Wait here for just a moment.”

Zelda let out something like an indignant squawk, her cheeks flashing pink, but Link didn’t give her time to argue. While the boy with the towels tripped all over himself to help ‘the lady’, Link darted back out into the rain towards the area where they kept the horses corralled, only to bump into Patti, Ember’s wife, who was on her way back.

“There you are, Link!” She called out cheerfully, heaving Link’s saddlebags off her shoulder and thrusting them into his surprised arms. “I figured you’d be wanting these. Why is it that the only times we ever see you ‘round these parts is when something bad is goin’ on?”

Link offered up an awkward laugh as he began hurrying back inside, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to keep Zelda waiting in the cold. “What is that supposed to mean? You make it sound like I’m some sort of harbinger of disaster.”

She snickered as though the two were sharing in some sort of private joke.

“More like the destroyer of disaster. I always sleep better at night when you’ve been in the area recently because I know you’ll have done in most of the nearby monsters. You’re good for business, boy. Tell me somethin’; earlier today, there was some sort of big to-do goin’ on near the castle. Looked like a bad storm, only I’ve never seen a storm that fired red and purple lightning. Just as I was gearin’ up to take my family and flee, it stops, and then here you come. Mind tellin’ me what you were up to?”

Link blanched. What was he supposed to say to that? Honestly, he wanted nothing better in that moment then to tell her the truth. The Calamity that had loomed over them for so long had finally been vanquished. Hyrule was free. The princess was saved. How good would she sleep tonight?

Only, he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until Zelda chose to reveal herself to the world. Still… There had to be something he could do to ease her worries… Her family deserved that much at least.

“There was a monster.” Link said stiffly, not making eye-contact lest she see the truths he was omitting reflected in his eyes. “A great monster. I slew it. The fields should be much safer from now on.”

“I see…” she replied softly, an unreadable gleam in her eyes. “If any other man but you had told me that, I’d assume they were boasting. Does this ‘lady’ you’re suddenly travelin’ with have anything to do with that monster?”

Link hesitated, certain now that she was on to his ruse.

“…Perhaps.”

“Huh. Well, hurry up and get inside. I’ll bring you two somethin’ warm to eat in just a bit.”

Surprised, Link watched in silence as Patti left him behind before shaking himself and hastening back to Zelda’s side. She’d drawn the hangings closed around the bed, signaling that she’d begun drying herself off already. That was a relief. The sooner she was out of those wet clothes, the better.

He set his saddlebags down on a table and began rooting through them, searching for something Zelda could wear tonight while her dress dried out by the fire. Most of his clothing, however, was ill-suited for sleepwear. His knight’s breastplate and fireproof Goron-wrought mail weren’t exactly made for sleeping. His Sheikah tunic was too tight. And he somehow doubted that Zelda would take well to his Gerudo clothing… particularly the male variant. He was beginning to grow frustrated when the glimpse of something sky-blue caught his eye, and he drew his Champion’s tunic from out of his bag.

He’d intended on wearing this when he confronted Ganon but had opted for his Hylian tunic instead as he’d thought it would help him blend in better in the shadows of the castle. At that moment, he was immensely glad of his decision. It wasn’t too stiff, meant originally to be worn over chainmail, so it could work as something to sleep in. Only now it had the added bonus of Great Fairy protective magic. That, and it should fit her.

Taking the shirt in hand, he hesitated for a moment over whether he should try to find her some pants, but discarded the notion with a shake of the head. Though they were about the same height, her hips were noticeably more rotund than his (not that he’d been paying attention to her hips, mind) and it was doubtful any of his pants would fit her. She’d have to make do with only this shirt. Thankfully it was rather long, and she could hide her legs beneath the covers.

“My lady,” Link called out softly through the curtain, “I’ve brought you something to wear.”

“O-oh!” she called back, sounding startled and embarrassed. “Um. OK. Just… J-just put it in my hand.”

Link couldn’t help but roll his eyes as her proffered appendage slid out tremulously from around the curtain. What, did she think he was going to peek in on her? What sort of pervert did she think he was?

He gave her the shirt without comment and settled back against the wall to wait.

“Go ahead and give me your dress once you’re done changing.” He said, filling the awkward silence. “I’ll set it up to dry overnight so you can change back in the morning. We’ll get you some new clothes as soon as we arrive in Kakariko.”

Silence.

Link frowned at the closed curtain. It was certainly taking her an awfully long time to put on a shirt…

“…My lady? Is everything ok in there-?”

“Don’t look!” Zelda practically screeched, making Link jump.

“Goddesses, I’m not!” He retorted hotly before wincing and shutting his mouth with a snap. He was being too loud; the last thing they needed was to draw any more attention to themselves.

Honestly, though; he’d forgotten how silly she could be about some things. An oddly nostalgic thought. He needed to remember that she was still seventeen. He was too, for that matter. What an odd thought. He felt older than that. Much older. A hundred years older.

With a rattle of links on metal, Zelda drew the curtain back and Link turned to look at her.

Her face was flushed and her eyes were downcast. She held up a bundle of sodden cloth, her dress and towels and undergarments he assumed, for him to take. Stepping forward, he reached to accept them and froze, momentarily distracted by her appearance.

The shirt fit her rather more snuggly than he’d expected, particularly around her bust and hips. The collar gaped a bit around her neck, showing off her collarbone, though why that should be distracting was anybody’s guess, particularly since the dress she’d just been wearing had been strapless and he hadn’t even looked at her twice. The shirt cut off indecently short, though she preserved her modesty by kneeling on the bed with her legs clamped tightly closed, the blankets pulled up protectively around her waist. Basically, she was completely covered, even more so than when she’d been wearing that dress earlier, and yet for some reason…

A moment went by, and Link still hadn’t moved. An awkward silence filled the air between them. Her hair was still damp from the rain. Though the towel had dried the golden strands considerably, they now hung frizzled about her head, darker and messier than usual. There, wearing only his shirt, her hair in disarray, she somehow looked more like a woman than she ever had before.

Zelda’s green eyes flickered upward towards him through her long lashes. Heat filled his cheeks. Something like stark terror plopped into his belly.

Oh Goddesses…

Her eyes darkened with anger.

He’d been caught.

“What are you doing?!” She suddenly snapped, expression livid, and Link could only stammer in incoherence, casting about wildly for a response, unable to think of anything to say in his defense.

“I-! Um, I mean, I just-!”

“Why are you still wearing those clothes?!”

He gaped, dumbfounded. What…?

Oh. His clothes. He was still wearing his wet clothing. He…  he hadn’t even noticed.

He shrugged, trying to offer up a placating smile while he internally willed his heart to stop racing. “Sorry. I guess I was just more concerned with you than-“

“Get. Changed.”

Yeesh. He’d forgotten how scary she could get when she was cross. Before Link could stutter out a response, Patti arrived at their side carrying steaming plates of food.

“Evenin’! Compliments of my husband for you both, Master Link, my lady. I’ll just go ahead and set them over here…”

She trailed off, staring at Link. Or rather, at his wet clothing.

“Master Link, why haven’t you changed? Surely you’re freezing in that outfit.”

Actually, now that she mentioned it, he was.

“I was merely looking out for… for my lady first,” Link began, ignoring the glare Zelda was sending his way, only the domineering stable owner cut him off short.

“Well, now that she’s taken care of, I insist that you get changed. I can’t have you getting’ sick in my stable, that’s bad for business. I’m holdin’ your food hostage ‘til you do.”

There was surprise in Zelda’s eyes, no doubt at the unexpected familiarity in the older woman’s tone, but Link had become used to it by now. This was just the sort of woman she was. The sort most of the women who worked at the stables were. They all treated him like he was their misbehaving nephew.

With a despondent sigh, Link began removing his weapons, shield, and quiver from off his back, leaning them up against the wall between his and Zelda’s beds before pulling the hood off his head and tossing it onto the ground, kicking off his boots.

“L-Link, you can change behind your curtains-!” Zelda blurted out, looking mortified.

Removing his gloves, Link set about undoing the straps on his shoulder guard. Clambering up on the bed and struggling to change behind the curtains sounded tedious, and he’d get his mattress all wet. He shrugged. “Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen me shirtless before.”

Occupied as he was, he didn’t see the way Zelda’s cheeks lit up or how her eyes bulged out of her head, or how she inhaled the first spoonful of soup into her lungs, although he did hear the resulting coughing fit. He also didn’t notice the way their guest glanced back and forth between them with shrewd, considering eyes.

While Zelda struggled for breath, Link seized the hem of his tunic in both hands and yanked the sodden article of clothing over his head in one fluid motion. He felt warmer the instant the wet cloth left his skin.

Patti’s gasp was so loud that it had Link spinning around instantaneously, battle senses tuned, hand reaching for his discarded weapon as he scanned the perimeter for the enemy. Only there was no enemy. What he found instead was Zelda and Patti staring horror-struck at his torso.

“What?” Link asked, glancing down, wondering if he’d spilled something on himself.

His chest and arms were a mass of cuts, burns, and bruises, all layered on top of a forest of old scars.

Oh… that was right. He’d gotten hurt numerous times making his way through the castle and fighting the Calamity. Only with Zelda back and his need to find her shelter from the rain, he’d been neglecting his own injuries. Several of them began throbbing with renewed vigor the moment he saw them.

If he were being honest, they hurt. A lot. Only… well, he’d sort of become used to it. None of them were particularly serious anyway. The cuts had already scabbed over, none of the burns were more than superficial, and he had no broken bones. They just looked bad. He’d been saved from worse injury by a combination of Mipha’s Grace and Daruk’s Protection. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain that to Zelda. She had a history of overreacting when he got hurt, and even now he could see the dull shock of guilt reflected in the paleness of her face and her darkening eyes.

Before he knew what was happening, Patti had forced him to remove his pants and take a seat on the edge of Zelda’s bed while she hurried off to find some bandages and ointment. Zelda’s gaze looked hollow while she took him in. The fact that both of them were seated on the same bed, him stripped down to his undergarments, her clad only in his shirt, seemed to have been lost on her. Her gaze slowly raked its way across his torso, taking in every injury with quiet misery.

“Why do you always do this?” Link whispered, frustrated, not meeting her gaze.

“I could ask you the same question.” She replied just as softly.

He frowned, feeling his annoyance build. “It’s my job, prin- …my lady. I am your knight. It is my duty to keep you safe.”

She sighed, but she didn’t sound angry. Merely resigned.

“Then by that logic, it is also my job to look after you, Hero.”

Something about the way she called him ‘Hero’ rather than Link as she normally did rankled him, and he found himself spitting out a condescending, “Did you actually expect me to face Calamity Ganon without taking an injury or two? Don’t be so naïve.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He was almost never this cross with Zelda, even when she deserved it. He’d always considered it a part of his oath as her appointed knight to silently bear any burden. Why then was he now so quick to fire off petty insults, particularly when she was merely showing concern for his wellbeing? Had their dynamic really changed that much after all this time?

Zelda was quiet for a moment. Finally, she murmured, “I knew you would get hurt, Link. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Guilt bore down on him with all the weight of Death Mountain itself. He felt like such a child. Before he could open his mouth to apologize, however, the stablemaster’s wife had come back carrying a pitcher of water, some rags and bandages, and bowl full of some odd green goop.

The next several minutes were full of a tense, uncomfortable silence as Zelda and Patti set about cleaning and dressing Link’s wounds. Patti worked deftly with almost surgical precision, keeping a one-sided conversation going as she prattled on about how she was more used to treating horse injuries than people’s and how Link would simply have to be a ‘big boy’ and deal with her brusqueness.

Zelda was silent, and she worked more slowly, taking care as she wiped away the dried blood so as to not exacerbate his injuries. Link tensed every time her fingers brushed his skin. He’d hurt her again. He was such an idiot.

After what felt like an eternity, Link’s wounds were dressed and Patti had gathered up the soiled rags, leaving the two alone; princess and Hero, two teenagers unable to deal with their issues.

A moment of silence passed in which nothing was said.

Finally, Link mustered up a weak, “Your food is probably cold.”

To his surprise, Zelda snorted. It was the least princess-like sound a person could make. Hearing it now took him back to the good days, just before the Calamity had broken free, when he and Zelda had been at their best. Partners. Almost friends. For a wild moment, things felt normal again. More normal than they had since he’d awoken alone on that plateau.

“You know, in some ways you’ve changed so much, but in others you’re still the same old Link I remember.”

Link blinked, taken aback.

“What does that mean?”

He couldn’t help how defensive he sounded. From the amused glance Zelda shot him as she dug about in her stew, she’d noticed.

“It’s just… you talk now. You never used to say a word if you could avoid it, and yet here you are, holding conversations… even starting them. If you only knew how hard I had to work to get you to open up to me before…” She shook her head ruefully, popping the spoon into her mouth and savoring a mouthful of her no-doubt cold supper. “But even so, you still know exactly how to push all of my buttons.”

There was no heat in her voice. She wasn’t upset anymore. Still, Link had to look away from her before he could speak.

“Well, maybe it’s because before, I was stuck with a chatty princess who never let me get a word in edgewise.”

Zelda gawked, a look of comical stupefaction on her face, and Link couldn’t help the involuntary laugh that tore itself from his lips.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “I think I preferred it when you were silent.”

They were quiet for a moment as they ate their stew. The thunder outside had stopped, but the pouring of the rain was relentless, the relentless wind shaking the thin, wooden walls, making the entire building creak. It didn’t sound like it was going to end anytime soon.

Link finished his dinner quickly and set his empty bowl aside, gathering up Zelda’s without a word as soon as she finished.

“You should get some sleep. We’ll need to be up early if we hope to make it to Kakariko before the sun sets.”

She nodded, stifling a yawn behind her hand. “And you’ll probably want to get dressed, unless you want to bleed on Patti’s bedsheets.”

Rising to his feet, Link hesitated at her bedside, ignoring her inquiring look while he struggled to find the words he wanted to say.

“Listen, I…” He stopped and shifted his weight uncomfortably. Oh Goddess, why was this so hard to say? It was only Zelda…

Right. ‘Only Zelda’. When had that ever been a comforting thought? She’d always had a way of setting his nerves on edge.

“I’m sorry. For what I said before, I… I know how you feel. The reason I get so upset whenever you overreact over my injuries is because I know you blame yourself whenever I get hurt. But I don’t like to see you in pain either, and I don’t like it when you try and assume responsibility for the things I’ve done. I know you never wanted me as your knight, but… I will always be there to protect you. Because it’s my duty, yes, but… also because it’s what I want to do. The thought of you in pain makes me hurt too. Please try to understand.”

The silence between them had grown uncomfortable again. Ugh, why had he said all of that? He should just go back to keeping his mouth shut like he used to… things were so much simpler then…

“That…” Zelda said softly, cutting through his thoughts, “was the most you’ve ever said to me at one time.”

The deadpan look on Link’s face was almost enough to make Zelda crack. Almost.

“But I do understand.” She continued hurriedly before Link could walk away in a huff. “I understand- and I hate it. I hate it with all of my heart. But I’ll agree to let you take care of me without complaining if you agree to let me do the same.

“This world… It’s so different from the one I remember. Everything has changed… I know I can’t get everything to go back to how it used to be, but… Perhaps… Perhaps, at the very least, you and I could? You’re all I have left of my old life, Link. I don’t want us to change too.”

She’d let him take care of her… if he let her do the same? Was that how she viewed their relationship?

“Everything changes, my lady.”

Bending over, he scooped up his and her sodden garments with his free hand and turned to leave.

“…But no matter what life throws at us next, I’m always going to be right here. That won’t change. Not ever.”

He walked away without looking back.

By the time he returned from giving back their dishes and hanging their clothing up to dry, Zelda’s eyes were closed and her breathing had evened out. She’d fallen asleep fast, just like he thought she would.

Oddly, she’d closed the curtains almost all the way around her bed except for right in front of her face, giving her a little window that looked out towards the bed Link would be sleeping on. If she woke up in the middle of the night, she’d be able to see him, and vice versa. He wondered if being alone in the darkness reminded her of her imprisonment in the castle but she’d been too ashamed to say it.

As quietly as possible, Link bent over and removed the old shirt and pair of trousers he’d found when he’d awoken in the Shrine of Resurrection from his bag. He almost never wore these because of how ill-fitting they were, but he had nothing else to sleep in since Zelda was wearing his Champion’s tunic.

He sent her once last look before he climbed into bed, marveling at how peaceful she looked and how much he hadn’t even realized he’d missed her. That shirt looked oddly right on her. He assumed it was because the clothing she used to wear was of a similar color and style. That had to be why.

There was a lot they still had yet to say. A lot they couldn’t say. A lot that needed to be said. Yet as the sound of falling rain rattling on the stable’s aged timbers washed over him, Link allowed himself to settle down into the scratchy mattress with a contented smile. They had their whole future ahead of them now. One devoid of Calamity Ganon’s dark malice. One that was for once full of hope and possibility. Zelda had already given so much to this world… it was about time that she got something for herself. Link would do whatever it took to see that she found the happiness she so desperately deserved.

That was but one more sacrifice that he was more than willing to make for his princess.


	2. Kakariko

The sight of the sleepy, hidden Sheikah village bathed in the orange glow of twilight had to be one of the most breathtaking sights Zelda had ever seen.

Granted, she’d seen many a beautiful sunset on her travels. The land of Hyrule was blessed with incredible beauty, and Zelda had found her breath stolen by the stunning sight of the setting sun on more than one occasion across various different regions, even from the confines of her own personal study.

Kakariko’s vantagepoint wasn’t even all that great, all things considered; the village was nestled between a handful of tall hills that blocked her view of the horizon, and the only bit of nature she could really see between the thatch-roofed houses were a handful of sparse trees (although the trees themselves were certainly lovely.) No, it wasn’t the actual sunset that made this moment in Kakariko memorable. It was the people.

From her position on Impa’s porch, kneeling on the same cushion she’d been resting on for the better part of the day, Zelda took another sip of her already chilled tea and let her gaze sweep the village for the umpteenth time that hour. This certainly wasn’t her first visit here, but even taking the Calamity and her hundred-year stint imprisoned into account, she still didn’t feel like it had been all that long since she’d last visited.

To be fair, she wasn’t exactly ‘conscious’ during her time locked away in Hyrule Castle with the Calamity; she had fleeting, dream-like impressions of her vigil over Link, but the moment she’d been separated from Ganon’s form had been not unlike awakening from a dream. Even so, the changes that a hundred years could bring, even in the secluded Sheikah village, were startling. But not quite so startling as the people.

The Sheikah were so… quaint. Normally, when the lords and ladies in the castle she’d grown up in used that word, it was tainted with thinly-veiled condescension, but for Zelda there could be nothing more endearing. They were so alive, so free, so… happy.

There was a peace that pervaded the village, a contentment that shone behind the smile of every shopkeeper, a happiness that glowed in the eyes of the rambunctious children. The glow of it radiated upon Zelda and warmed her wearied soul. She felt like a flower pushing past the frost into the first rays of spring.

On the journey from the Riverside Stable to Kakariko, Zelda had seen startlingly few people on the road. She’d known that the destruction to Hyrule and its population had been severe, but even knowing as she did what there was to expect hadn’t been enough to prepare her for the actual sight of it.

Ruins. Ruins everywhere. Dotting the landscape like a virulent disease. The decaying remains of towns and villages and farms lay scattered across the hills and valleys of her kingdom, startlingly cold and lifeless amidst the swaths of living green. Forts where her soldiers had lived and defended her people. Cottages where children had slept. The skeletons of these buildings stood as a stark reminder of the price of her failure and everything she had lost.

It had taken her and Link two days of travel to make it from Hyrule Castle to Kakariko, seeing as how the heavy rainfall had muddied the roads far more severely than they’d anticipated and that Link had insisted that they take the roundabout path through the Dueling Peaks rather than scale the steeper cliffs near the Sahasra Slope because the well-worn route was more gentle.

Zelda had argued, both because she was impatient about getting to Kakariko and seeing Impa again (and getting out of that accursed dress…) and also because she was sick of Link treating her like she was made of porcelain.

Honestly; so what if her body wasn’t yet accustomed to hiking again? Her muscles hadn’t atrophied _that_ much…

He was always over-protective, taking his duties as ‘Appointed Knight to the Princess’ very seriously, but it seemed to her that he was going a little overboard ever since rescuing her from the Calamity. She could hardly sneeze without him brandishing his sword and chopping down every pollen-producing plant in the area. She needed to have a serious talk with him once they left the village and were out of the range of prying ears.

Still… overbearing as he might be when it came to her protection, her loyal bodyguard had changed in many other ways since last she’d seen him. He smiled more. Spoke more readily. Maintained positive, personal relationships with the people he’d interacted with on his travels. In many ways, he was completely unlike the ever-silent young man who’d followed along in her shadow. He could no longer hide behind her like he wanted; he was simply to bright.

For the first time, when they entered a room, all eyes didn’t immediately snap to her. They looked to him first, now. They knew him, or if they didn’t they’d heard about him through rumors or first-hand experiences of friends or family members. Link had become a veritable legend, a Hero on par with those from the old tales. It always took them a moment before they noticed the girl at his side, and few were the ones who put together who she must be. She had yet to reveal herself to the public, and was hesitant to do so even now, in a village where everyone knew who she was. She liked not being the center of attention for once. She wanted it to last at least a little bit longer…

Speaking of being the center of attention…

A fresh wave of frenetic laughter reached out to her, tickling her ears, lifting her wearied spirit. Down below, in the tiny makeshift village square situated between Impa’s house and the fountain of the Goddess Hylia, a gaggle of children ran shrieking and screaming in delight as Link, the mighty Hero who sealed the Darkness, darted after them, running just slow enough to not catch them and prolong their little game.

A slow smile blossomed across Zelda’s face without her noticing. She was certain Link knew exactly where she was, but from her vantage point up above she still felt like she was watching him unobserved. Without her presence at his side, with her ‘safe’ on Impa’s porch, his guard had finally fallen somewhat and he’d allowed a bit of his true self to poke through. And Zelda found the entire situation fascinating.

While she had remained in Impa’s home, catching up with her surrogate older sister and getting to know the important people around the village (the few who were alive before the Calamity had been too young to remember much of anything, though it still felt odd to hear them say that they remembered having seen her when they were children), Link had spent that time preparing for their journey back to the castle.

He’d been given an extra horse for her; a rather stocky gelding who lacked Epona’s strength or speed though who looked reliable enough (knowing Link, however, she’d be riding Epona regardless), and he’d set about purchasing food and provisions for their journey for the rest of the morning.

A tent, assorted camping equipment, bedrolls and blankets, etc. Zelda even had new sets of clothing being worked on at that very moment by the village tailor at Link and Impa’s behest. They had a long journey ahead of them after they left the castle, and it was obvious that he meant to be prepared.

Zelda had remained on the porch, enjoying the warmth of the sun after so long alone in the darkness, and when not entertaining visitors she contented herself with watching Link from afar. He’d finished his preparations around midmorning (he still rose unbearably early, it seemed) and instead of returning to her side as he usually would, he spent the day mingling with the villagers.

He practiced swordplay with some of the older folk, showed off his archery for a rather enamored shopkeeper, helped an elderly man harvest some vegetables in his garden, captured a gaggle of runaway cuccos… Right at that moment, he was playing tag with the village children, a wolfish grin on his face, while a small crowd of villagers looked on and laughed.

He was the life of the party, it would seem. How far he’d come in her absence… It was heartwarming, but also a little sad. She wished she could have been there to witness the transformation firsthand.

A familiar chuckle emanated from the cushion beside her, and Zelda turned to shoot Impa a curious look.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen that look on your face, girl.”

Zelda’s smile instantly dropped.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Playing coy was Zelda’s only defense; she’d been caught grinning like a fool by one of the women who knew her best. Impa, unfortunately, was having none of it.

“Mmm. Whatever indeed… He’s changed a lot, hasn’t he? Our little Hero has grown into a fine young man…”

The implication in Impa’s tone was utterly lost on Zelda, who had once again zeroed in on Link’s laughing face as one of the children leapt onto his back and attempted to wrestle him to the ground.

“Yes… He’s much more open now than he used to be. It’s a relief to hear him speak. He was so restrained before… though I’ll confess, it isn’t always a good thing. He has quite the penchant for sarcasm, our Hero. Still… I’ll gladly take that over his old impassiveness. He’s come such a long way…”

“It almost makes you wonder what caused this change.”

The older woman sent Zelda a knowing look. Zelda frowned, wracking her brain as though it had been a legitimate question.

“Well… I’d imagine it would have something to do with losing his memory. I’m almost jealous, in a way… What happened to him was awful, but… he was given a chance to wipe the slate clean, so to speak. To start over without the pressures of duty or responsibility weighing him down. He’s become who he was meant to be. I almost wish I could have the same happen to me, if only to see how I might have turned out under different circumstances…”

The more serious shift in tone inspired by the unexpected weight behind Zelda’s confession was blown away by an impatient “Phaw!” from Impa.

“Don’t be a fool, girl. There’s no sense in worrying about ‘could haves’ and ‘might have beens’. Focus on what’s right in front of you before you lose that, too.”

Zelda blinked. Impa sounded distinctly disgruntled, like Zelda was missing something obvious.

“What’s right in front of me? What are you talking about?”

Impa snorted, then gestured off the balcony.

“Do you see that girl down there? The one speaking with Link?”

Zelda leaned forward, squinting her eyes to peer through the rapidly dimming light.

“Ah… yes, I think so… That’s Paya, is it not? Your granddaughter?”

It had to be. Tall as a willow, with an endearing, dimpled smile, the girl had all of her grandmother’s beauty. At the moment, she was offering what looked like a skin of water to Link, who was panting heavily from all of the roughhousing he had been doing with the children.

She was terribly shy, but incredibly sweet, and Zelda had every hope that once she managed to push past her nervousness and forget the stories she’d been raised with of the ‘Legendary Princess Zelda who stood alone against the Calamity’ (honestly, the tales she’d heard since arriving were absolutely mortifying…), the two of them would be able to become fast friends, just as Zelda and Impa had been.

Impa smirked, pride in her eyes as she gazed down at her granddaughter, but there was something else in her expression… a certain mischievousness around the corners of her mouth. Zelda knew that look. Instantly she felt her defenses rise.

“Well. Let’s just say that that unassuming little minx down there might just be trying to take your place.”

Zelda blinked, caught completely off-guard.

“What? She wants to be the princess?”

Well, she certainly wasn’t the first woman to entertain such notions… Though if she knew anything about what the job truly entailed, she’d be running for the hills. At least, assuming she had any wits about her. Then again, Zelda might just be willing to give her the job if she were serious about it…

Impa let out a familiar cackle.

“Not that place. She’s not that big a fool. No, I meant your place with the boy.”

Zelda remained confused.

“She wants Link to be her knight?”

Impa shot her a flat look.

“Are you being dense on purpose?”

Zelda flushed. Impa was always so needlessly direct with her; why was she talking in circles now?

The older woman could see the confusion clearly in Zelda’s face. Letting out a wearied sigh, she lifted her hand and began rubbing at her temples as though staving off a headache.

“Honestly, youth is wasted on the young…”

Zelda frowned, trying not to let her impatience get the better of her. She’d rather not be cross with the woman she considered to be family, especially not after having just been reunited after so long a time. Still, the woman could be infuriating…

“Let’s tackle this from another angle then. Have you thought about your future much since leaving the castle?”

Zelda offered an uncomfortable shrug, turning away from the elderly Sheikah to look back out at the huddle of people below. The light had fallen fast behind the towering hills and she almost couldn’t see them anymore, but from the looks of things, Link was helping some of the smaller children capture fireflies while several of the villagers, Paya included, looked on and chatted one with another.

“We talked about this already. I need to help rebuild my kingdom. After accompanying the Sheikah contingent to the castle to begin the work of salvaging and clearing away the rubble, Link and I will make rounds to the surviving settlements to seek support and reaffirm our treaties with the leaders of the various races, and then-“

“Yes yes yes, politics, very good.” Impa cut in, waving her hand impatiently. “I know all that already. I’m talking about your future, Zelda. What do you want?”

“Me?” Honestly, this woman was asking the same questions again and again and expecting different answers! “But I’ve just said! I’m going to rebuild my kingdom-!”

“Bah!” Impa threw up her arms, clearly agitated. “How is it that someone with a brain like yours can be so thick-headed?!”

Zelda crossed her arms with a huff and turned away, only remembering to lower her chin so as to not look so haughty when an old memory of Link teasing her about that particular habit flashed through her head.

“Well perhaps if you could be just a bit more clear-!”

“Listen, girl.” Impa cut in again, utilizing a reprimanding tone that Zelda hadn’t heard in over a century, “When you were a child you were raised to be a princess. There were rules and laws and societal etiquettes that were foisted upon you by your father and the courts, things you were taught you could and could not do. You had a very particular future all planned out for you and you had next to no say in it. And then the Calamity came and ruined all of that. Now far be it for me to say that anything good came from Ganon, but if that century-long cloud of darkness had anything resembling a silver-lining, it’s this. All those old laws and rules no longer apply. There’s nothing tying you down.

“When Hyrule Kingdom is restored, you will be its leader, and you can do whatever you want. No one to tell you where to go, or what to do, or with whom you can associate. You’ve more freedom now than you’d have ever had before. At least in certain respects. How do you plan to use it?”

Quiet descended upon the two as they looked over the village, now completely covered in darkness, illuminated only by the moon and a sprinkling of torches.

The older woman’s words echoed in Zelda’s head. Free… Well that certainly wasn’t true, as queen she’d find she had less free-time than she’d had as princess, and her individual stresses and pressures would surely only grow… But it was also true that nobody could make specific demands of her anymore. She could eat whatever she wanted, pass the laws she wanted (at least at first, until they managed to reconstruct anything like a council, though who knew how long that would take), and nobody could tell her not to pursue her scholarly passions, at least whenever she could find the time…

…But what did any of that have to do with her future plans? Either way, she was still going to be queen.

“What about the boy then?” Impa continued, prodding Zelda along when it became clear she didn’t have an answer. “Link. What is it he wants for his future? What did he want before the Calamity? How has that changed now that Ganon is gone and Hyrule is free?”

Zelda found herself flushing in shame. She was embarrassed to admit it, but… she had no idea. She couldn’t answer either question.

What did Link want? To be her knight forever? If she asked him to, she had no doubt he’d say yes, but that can’t be what he actually wanted. What was it normal people wanted out of life? Love? A family? Did Link want a family? Did Link’s ideal future before the world had come screeching to a bloody halt involve a normal wife with normal children in a normal village somewhere, or perhaps in a city or a quiet farm? Somehow, Zelda doubted it. Nothing so plain could ever satisfy someone as extraordinary as the Hero. But still…

He’d been particularly close with Mipha before, she remembered; the poor girl had been absolutely besotted with him, though she’d never been able to tell if he returned the sentiment. He was always so quiet… though it would be a little odd. Not that interracial couples were unheard of, and the two certainly had a history, but… For some reason that she couldn’t quite put a finger on, the thought of Link and Mipha together just felt wrong to her. Obvious racial differences aside, there was the whole ‘aging’ problem to consider, and if they two had been able to wed they wouldn’t be able to have any children…

Actually, did Link even want children? She’d never asked. She filed that away in her mind under the list of things she meant to ask Link one day when they had free time. Oddly enough, while the two spent more time talking in the last few days than ever before, that list of hers never seemed to grow any smaller…

Impa was still waiting for a response.

Clearing her throat and sitting up a little straighter, Zelda kept her gaze riveted firmly on the moon.

“Link and I have not discussed his plans for the future. At the moment, he is singularly dedicated to the restoration of Hyrule, as am I. If you wish to know, you should ask him yourself.”

That came out more than just a little prim, but it was too late to change her tone now.

Impa grunted, clearly unimpressed, but before Zelda could do any damage control the older woman sighed and turned back to face her village.

“Fine. If that’s how it is, then that’s how it is. You should know, though, that boy of yours has made quite the name for himself. He’s got an impressive band of fans here in this village; the children look up to him, the men aspire to be like him, and the women… well, I’m sure you can image what the women think of him. The same is probably true in every town and village he’s ever visited.

“You’d best be prepared; if Link’s plans for the future involve settling down, he’s got an impressive list of ladies to choose from, and my granddaughter already has her eyes set on him for all that she might deny it. If you don’t watch out, you might just find yourself short one appointed knight. And I can only imagine how inconvenient that would be for your own future plans.”

Zelda said nothing. Below, the children were being gathered up by their parents and ushered away to their various houses for dinner, baths, and bed. A gaggle of people remained around Link, and most of them seemed to be young and female. Stepping forward, Paya said something to Link and a moment later he was moving in closer, showing her something he was holding cupped in his hands. Whatever it was, it glowed in the darkness, illuminating the delighted smile on Paya’s face in phosphorescent green. He still had one of the fireflies.

Something inexplicably dark erupted inside of Zelda, and before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet, stalking her way back inside Impa’s house. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt so irrationally angry. It must have been Impa’s questions. Or maybe she was just tired… yes, that must be it…

The sound of Impa cackling again from behind her had her stumbling unexpectedly, but she hurried on, her face burning with embarrassment. She was suddenly glad that Link had elected to sleep outside tonight. For some odd reason, she felt like he deserved it.


	3. Hateno

“He _what_?” Purah squawked, indignant, her unnaturally high, childlike voice echoing loudly off the walls of her home-slash-laboratory. “How long have you known this?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Not for the first time that day, Zelda was astounded by the remarkable patience Symin displayed, even in the face of Purah’s infamous tantrums.

As it was, the older man met his superior’s hysterical, accusatory gaze with a look of perfect blandness before replying with a simple, “Honestly, I hadn’t thought it worth mentioning.”

“Hadn’t thought it…? _Hadn’t thought it…?!_ Symin, you dummy! This might just be the most important thing that’s ever happened in the history of… of ever!”

Without altering his deadpan expression in the slightest, Symin glanced over Purah’s head to exchange looks with their guest. Zelda for her part was having a hard time restraining her laughter. Purah could get a little carried away every now and again. She’d always been this way. It was good to see that, though her physical appearance had changed drastically (and honestly, the sight of her older friend in the body of a child was still throwing Zelda off), her attitude at least had not.

Still, while she was every bit as curious as Purah was about this recent revelation, she didn’t know that she’d go so far as to call it ‘the most important thing that’s ever happened in the history of ever’. But then, for a scientific genius, Purah had a surprising penchant for hyperbole.

As though sensing the doubtful direction of Zelda’s thoughts, Purah whirled on her from her elevated position on the table top (where she’d taken to standing to make up for the difference in height) and jabbed her tiny little finger into the air with all the drama and theatricality she could muster.

“Princess! You know what this means? The Goddess has looked down upon us and illuminated our path! We’ve been given a rare opportunity to observe the wild Hero in his natural habitat! We must heed the call… the call of science!”

Zelda stared. If she parsed through Purah’s ostentatious diction, then…

“You wish to spy on Link in his new house?”

“Well duh! What’s the matter? Don’tcha want to?”

Zelda hesitated uncomfortably, feeling suddenly put on the spot. Her bare toes wiggled anxiously on the cool floor tiles.

“W-well, it’s just… I promised Link that I would remain here in the lab, and…”

Purah’s expression grew stony.

“Well.” The shorter woman (girl?) replied, her tone clipped. “I hadn’t realized the princess of Hyrule was in the habit of taking orders from her subordinates. But then, I suppose a hundred years really changes a person. You’ve completely lost the Spirit of Scientific Inquiry that I’d worked so long and hard to cultivate within you. I’m heartbroken, princess.”

From over Purah’s head, Zelda could see Symin stiffen at the off-handed mention of Zelda’s imprisonment in the castle. If she were being honest, she was still more than a little touchy about it, and hearing Purah refer to the traumatic ordeal so casually should have irritated her… only, well, it didn’t.

Perhaps it was because it came from the mouth of a six-year-old. Perhaps it was because it was Purah, who seemed uniquely incapable of displaying anything resembling tact or reverence. Or perhaps it was because it was refreshing to have someone not walking on eggshells around her. Regardless, she wasn’t bothered.

And…

And, well… She had a point. Not about spying on Link for science; that was obviously some absurd ploy she’d concocted as an excuse to fool around. Rather, the whole ‘Link telling her to stay put’ thing. Why did she have to listen to him? She was perfectly safe here in Hateno with Purah and Symin. Safe enough that Link had actually opted to leave her alone with them. He’d been gone for the last several hours, in fact; something he’d been loath to do since saving her from the Calamity. The village must be safe for him to feel comfortable leaving her side. Especially in the middle of the night.

And if she were being honest with herself, there was just something about the idea of sneaking away under the cover of moonlight that made her feel like a rebellious girl again. Well, to be fair, she was still a girl… technically. And she’d never really been given the chance to be rebellious in the first place, so ‘again’ probably wasn’t the best word… But perhaps this was her chance. Maybe it was time she started living her life again. Make up for all that lost time.

Purah had been staring at her during this entire internal exchange, her expression flat, clearly unimpressed with Zelda’s prior lack of gumption. The goggles she wore wrapped around her hair bun were slightly askew. Why she was still wearing them at this hour, Zelda didn’t know, but they seemed odd when paired with the child’s night gown the scientist was wearing.

Under the judgmental gaze of one of her oldest friends, the princess finally caved.

 “Oh alright. Let’s do it. For science.”

“Snap!” Purah exclaimed dramatically, just about bursting from excitement as she jumped up and down on the table. “Alrighty, that’s my girl! Adventure awaits! Let us be off!”

“W-what?” Zelda stammered, taken aback as Purah leapt down to the ground and seized Zelda by the hand, dragging her toward the front door. “Purah, wait! Hold on, I… I’m not dressed properly for an outing!”

Technically, she wasn’t dressed properly for much of anything save going to bed, which is exactly what she had been planning on doing before Symin had dropped the news about Link. True, the woolen night gown she had on was far thicker than the silk ones she had grown used to wearing in the castle, the kind that clung to your body in ways that made her feel mortified just thinking about, and while she felt perfectly comfortable wearing this in front of Purah and Symin, who were loyal Sheikah and quite a bit older than her, she still didn’t wish to prance around outdoors in her night clothes.

Purah didn’t seem to care, dismissing her complaints with an off-hand, “You’re fine! Everyone’s asleep anyway. Stop wasting time!”

As the smaller researcher reached for the doorknob, Symin cleared his throat a little awkwardly and managed to mumble out a weak, “I really think it wise that the two of you stay here. You did promise Master Link…”

“Ah, stuff it you old party pooper.” Purah grumbled as she wrenched the door open, letting in the cool refreshing night breeze; the irony of her calling him old was lost on nobody, but she gave neither of them the time to point it out. “Linky ain’t the boss of me. Actually, if you wanna get technical, Zelda is the boss of him. Besides, he’s practically begging for this to happen! How dare he not tell me he bought a house!”

Looking lost, Symin turned his quietly pleading gaze to Zelda, as though hoping she could somehow talk some sense into the rambunctious old scientist, seemingly forgetting that Purah had a will like iron and, despite her diminutive size, was still managing to drag Zelda around by the wrist.

Zelda found herself shrugging, unable to hold back a sheepish smile even as she fully succumbed to Purah’s spontaneity.

“It’s for science, Symin.”

“That’s right! Stop trying to impede progress, Symin!”

He gaped, astounded that he now had both females against him.

“But Master Link wanted you to stay here where I could protect you…!”

Both girls exchanged bland looks before bursting out into hysterical laughter. Before Symin could get another word in edge-wise, Purah had taken Zelda by the hand once again and dragged her out the door of the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab and into the brisk midnight air.

“Hurry up!” the smaller girl shouted, her excitable voice echoing loudly into the night, “We need to get there before he falls asleep!”

The mad sprint Purah led her on (well… mad ‘jog’ was perhaps the better description; Purah’s legs weren’t long enough to match Zelda’s pace no matter how she tried) down the rocky mountainside with only the light of the moon and the occasional blue-flamed torch to light their way ought to have been a harrowing experience, but the thrill of adventure was alight in Zelda’s eyes, and as the two girls ran barreling down the crooked path towards the sleeping Hateno Village, a half-step away from tripping and breaking their foolish necks, Zelda found herself overcome by a stream of frenetic, childish giggles.

It was absolutely ludicrous, Zelda knew, and yet for some reason she felt more alive right now than she had in over a century. Princesses don’t sneak out at night, barefoot and in their nightgowns. Princesses don’t go running down hillsides in total darkness. Princesses down spy on their male bodyguards when they’re alone in their homes.

In this moment, Zelda wasn’t a princess; she was a wild, rebellious, silly little girl. The entire situation would have been positively scandalous had her father or the nobles at court caught wind of it. And it was perhaps the thought of that that she loved most of all.

The two girls slowed to a walk as they reached the wooden construct that bridged the tiny stream, leading them in to Hateno Village proper. More than a little winded, they stifled their giggles, conscious of the people sleeping within the tiny, thatch-roofed cottages around them, and with careful steps they hurried through the town like a pair of thieves in the night.

Honestly, even in the darkness, there was a quaint sort of serenity about Hateno Village. It lacked the hustle and bustle of Castle Town back in its prime, but Zelda felt at peace here between the humble little homes and crooked, aged windmills. In an odd way, she could see why Link might have chosen to purchase a house in this village. Unlike the rest of Hyrule, it felt as though Hateno had somehow managed to escape the terror of the Calamity. Here, in this sleepy settlement, one could pretend, at least for a while, that everything was right with the world and that all was as it should be…

Perhaps that was why Link had purchased that house. It could be that he was planning on settling down after all. Her conversation with Impa back on the porch in Kakariko echoed through her mind for a moment, and Zelda frowned. If Link wanted to settle down, then he certainly could. She could never deny him anything, never again, not after all that he had done for her. But the thought of him making plans like this without ever bothering to tell her made her heart ache in an unexpected fashion.

Zelda shook the thought off and took ahold of herself. Leaping to conclusions like this wasn’t going to help matters. For all she knew, Link had a perfectly viable reason for purchasing this home that didn’t involve him abandoning her.

Funny; even in her mind, she considered the thought of Link leaving her to be ‘abandonment’. That wasn’t fair, she knew, not at all… but that was how she felt about it.

Before long, the village changed from one made up of old, weathered shacks to an odd procession of newer, cube-shaped edifices that were apparently meant to be some strange new model of home.

“Link lives here?” Zelda asked, nonplussed. If Link wanted to buy a house, that was his business, but these buildings here were… to put it bluntly, highly unattractive. And far too claustrophobic for a man who loved the outdoors as much as she knew he did.

“Nah. If it’s the house I’m thinking of, it’ll be just back here.”

Sure enough, back behind the row of odd cuboid houses and across a narrow yet sturdy bridge sat an old, rustic cottage.

All it took was one look and Zelda was already in love.

She could see right away why Link had bought it. Goddess above, she wanted to buy it herself! It was beautiful in a quaint, completely unsophisticated sort of way. It sported a simple design; four walls and a front door, several windows, stalls for horses, a large yard with a pond and a handful of apple trees, a tall, crooked chimney…

The entire thing simply exuded character, and felt… loved. It looked like the sort of place one might find a happy little care-free family. The kind who never had to fight in wars, or duel with demons, or deal with the weight of an impossible destiny bearing down upon their too-thin shoulders.

She knew then, without knowing how, that that was why Link had bought the house. In honor of a life he’d never have. In honor of a life that a part of him would secretly always want. A simple life. A peaceful life.

As they drew nearer, Zelda felt a familiar sort of thrill shooting through her. Link was in that house… alone. He had no idea she was there. What was it he got up to when nobody was around? And why… why did that question make her feel so flushed and… indecent?

Suddenly red-faced and grateful that the darkness of the night would hide it, Zelda cast around for a topic of discussion to distract herself from her mutinous thoughts.

“So… are you certain this house belongs to Link?”

“Well, the sign has his name on it, so…”

Ah. Quite. Then again, it was rather dark out… Purah must have better night vision than Zelda had. Was that a Sheikah trait? Squint as she might, she couldn’t make out what it said.

A cluster of coals was glowing a little ways to the left of the house, the obvious remnants of a fire. Was Link responsible for that? She somehow doubted it; the chimney seemed to be a clear indication that he had a fireplace of his own, but even if he’d wanted to cook outdoors, he never left fires unattended. There were a couple lumpy shapes lying beside the glowing embers, but Zelda paid them no mind. Lights were on inside the cabin. Link was home.

“Should we knock, or…?”

“Geez, Zelda. You’re really bad at this ‘spying’ thing, aren’t you?”

Zelda flushed again.

“Well…! You show me how it’s done then!”

“Allll-righty!”

And with that, the smaller girl shuffled forward and pressed her ear flush against the door.

A moment passed in which Zelda heard nothing but the whisper of the breeze passing through the leaves.

“…Nuthin’.” Purah finally declared, stepping back and frowning.

“Perhaps he’s already asleep?”

“Quick, let’s go peek in through the windows!”

Before Zelda could react, Purah turned and bolted up the small ledge in front of his house, struggling to reach the second-story window.

“Zel…! Zelda! Help! I can’t…! Reach…!”

“Hush, or you’ll wake him!” Zelda hissed, her heart hammering in her throat at the fear of what he would say if he found her wandering about his house at night in not but her nightgown.

Hurrying up the hill to Purah’s side, she fell to a crouch beside the window, wincing at the thought of having to explain the grass stains in the future and, as sneakily as she dared, lifted her head up to peek into the house.

The glass was old and bubbly, but she could see well enough. A candle affixed to the wall illuminated the view of what she thought was an empty bed, some book shelves, and a writing desk. Nothing inside moved.

“Well? Is he asleep?”

“I don’t see him…” she admitted, feeling a little let-down.

“Hmm… Maybe he’s downstairs… let’s go check for other windows.”

Only, none of the windows showed them anything. From what they could tell as they circled the house, though the lights were on inside, nobody was home.

“I don’t understand.” Zelda finally confessed after they completed their circle of the building and returned to the front door. “Where could he have gone at such a late hour? Do you think he returned to the Lab?”

“If he had, Symin would have told him where we went and he’d be here in a heartbeat to chew us both out.” Purah grumped, crossing her arms and scowling at the house in front of her as though it had done her a personal harm by not revealing Link’s location.

“Then… perhaps he’s camping outside the Lab.”

“Why on earth would he sleep outside when he has a perfectly respectable house of his own he can use?”

Zelda hesitated before answering.

“Well, he… It’s just something he does. When it’s just the two of us out together on the road, Link will always sleep somewhere close to me so he can be at my side at a moment’s notice in case of an emergency. However, in those rare moments when we manage a room at a village or a farm house or the like, he always sleeps outside. Usually right outside the door or by my window. He worries that the two of us alone in a room together might spark unsavory rumors about the nature of our relationship…”

There was a long pause in which Purah stared at her and she stared at her toes, watching them wiggle uncomfortably in the grass.

After a long pause, the shorter girl replied, “I never knew that.”

Zelda scoffed, suddenly emboldened. “He even chose to do so in Kakariko. Rather than accept Impa’s hospitality or chose to room at the inn, he insisted on sleeping outside on her porch.”

“Well.” Purah replied, stretching her arms overhead. “Link’s weirdness aside, if that’s really where he is then that means we don’t need to worry about him finding us at his house. And in that case…”

Purah darted forward and seized the door’s handle.

“…we can go inside and touch his stuff!”

She threw her entire body weight into the door, clearly expecting it to open without a problem, and instead bounced pathetically off of the solid wooden obstacle like she were a ball, rebounding so heavily she fell back and landed on her backside with a disoriented grunt.

The door was locked.

Before Zelda could help Purah get to her feet (or stop herself from laughing), a sudden rustling noise sounded out from the direction of the remains of the campfire.

“Ooh… Oh, Link, is that you~? Somebody’s home late. You’re lucky I’m a patient man, or else…”

A figure rose from the ground, resolving into the shape of a lean, somewhat muscular man wearing an odd set of pink trousers and a blue worker’s vest, complete with a leopard-print collar. His bald pate glinted in the moonlight, and in the darkness she could just barely make out that what little hair he had around the sides of his head and goatee was a solid grey. His piercing blue eyes focused on the two girls in front of the door with momentary befuddlement before putting two-and-two together and coming to the obvious conclusion.

“Ah ha!” He cried out, his voice surprisingly unctuous. “What do we have here, hmm?! A couple of pretty young thieves! Out to break into this studly young man’s home while he’s away for the night? Despicable. Unfortunately for you, Bolson of Bolson Construction is here to save the day! You best get while the getting’s good, little ladies, or this won’t play out too nicely for you!”

A rustling behind him revealed another man, this one markedly younger – perhaps a few years older than Zelda herself – who scowled at the two of them as though they’d been caught stealing food from children.

Before Zelda could recover from her shock or think of a plausible excuse for their being there, Purah was already firing back with a response of her own.

“Oh yeah?! How do we know that you two aren’t the thieves?!”

The boy in the back started in shock.

“What? How does that make any sense! _We_ caught _you!_ ”

“Says who?! From my point of view, you two creeps were staking out this house, waiting to rob whoever showed up! And now you’re trying to pin the blame on us!”

Bolson scoffed. “Oh sure, just what I’d expect a thief to do – blame someone else for thieving! Lucky for use, we know the owner of this house, and he can vouch for us to the other villagers! Now how about you two, hmm? I don’t think I’ve ever seen the two of you around before. And you’re certainly dressed like thieves… what other sort of person wanders around at night in their pyjamas?!”

“Hold on, please!” Zelda chimed in desperately, hoping to interject some logic into the conversation before somebody woke up the rest of the village. “We aren’t thieves! We know Link as well!”

The two men looked astonished at this proclamation.

“You? How do you two know a fine young man like that?”

“Boss, isn’t that the pretty girl we saw ridin’ into town with him earlier?” the younger man whispered loudly.

“We’re his friends.” Zelda said quickly, and then made a decision. Embarrassing as it was, the only way she could see them getting out of being branded thieves was to tell the truth and get back to the lab as fast as possible. “He’s been gone all day and never came back, and we were beginning to worry about him, so…”

“So we decided to come over to his house and go through his stuff!” Purah chirped animatedly.

“P-Purah!”

“What? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it!”

“Well, technically yes, but-!”

“But nuthin’! Bolson understands, don’t you Bolson? What would you do if your friend went off and bought a house and then never invited you over? This is perfectly natural!”

Somehow, Zelda didn’t think he’d see it that way, though it surprised her to notice a certain edge off familiarity in Purah’s tone. Did she know this man? That was plausible, given her prominence in the village. It was likely didn’t recognize her simply because she’d turned herself into a child and had been too embarrassed to tell the townsfolk. At the very least, it explained why Purah had seemingly gotten over her alarm at his sudden appearance so quickly. Still, familiarity or not, that didn’t change the fact that two young girls trying to break into someone’s house didn’t look good, no matter what the reason.

Cringing, she turned back to face the eccentric carpenter and his companion, fully expecting them to rouse the sleeping village, raise a violent pitch-fork bearing mob, and drive them from town.

“I see…” Bolson muttered, a shrewd look passing across his face as he reached up to stroke his chin in a pensive manner.

A moment later, he was all-business.

“Karson!”

“Yeah, boss?!”

“Awaken your inner animal! We are beasts of construction!”

Karson let out a whoop in response. Before Zelda knew what was happening, the younger man had picked up a discarded sledge hammer that was conveniently located nearby and, without even a moment’s hesitation, reeled back and slammed the heavy metal weapon into the door, splintering the lock and just about tearing the wooden obstruction off its hinges.

To Zelda’s complete and utter abject horror, Link’s front door was now open.

“Snap! Good job, Karson!”

“You’ve dazzled me once again, Karson!”

Was Zelda the only one here who hadn’t completely lost her mind?!

“Oh… Goddesses…” She practically wailed, her hands cupped over her mouth in shock. “What on earth possessed you to do that?!”

Bolson shrugged.

“Let’s just say I was moved by your plight. That, and Link’s kept me waiting out here all night. If this doesn’t catch his attention, nothing with.”

Without waiting to see if Zelda would follow, Purah bounded gleefully inside, followed quickly by Bolson and Karson, leaving the princess all alone out on the moonlit grass. With a heavy sigh and a silent prayer for forgiveness, she guiltily followed suit, taking her first real look into Link’s private living quarters. 

His house was… clean.

Not that she didn’t think it would be, it was just… While it was warmly furnished, it gave off a rather powerful vibe that it hadn’t actually been lived in. Everything was too neat, too… orderly. There was a dining table in the center of the floor decorated in nice china, cupboards loaded with neatly-ordered spice jars and cooking implements, bookshelves covered in dusty tomes that clearly had never been read. Even the few paintings framed on the walls looked generic. It reminded Zelda very much of the guest rooms in the castle. Everything was nice and orderly, from the layout of the furniture to the patterns on the rugs. But none of it felt like Link.

None of it… except for the wooden placards hanging on the walls, displaying rows of ornate weapons.

It took Zelda a moment to recognize them, but when she did, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Purah let out an undignified snort.

“Figures. Actually, I’m amazed Linky has any furniture at all. I half expected the entire place to be a shrine to weapons.”

“Oh, well you can thank me for that.” Bolson chimed in, placing his hands on his hips and smirking proudly. “The poor boy kept asking me to build him more weapon mounts instead of furniture. Karson and I wound up donating most of what you see out of the generosity of our hearts. A man’s got to have some nice furnishings to make his house really feel like a home, you know. What if he had brought a lady over? She’d have laughed right in his handsome face.”

“I gotta say, though. Those weapons sure do look fancy. I don’t blame him for wanting to hang them up. It’s almost like art!”

“They’re the weapons of the Champions.” Zelda breathed softly, answering Karson’s unasked question. “The Lightscale Trident, Boulder Breaker, the Great Eagle Bow, the Scimitar of the Seven, and Daybreaker.”

It wasn’t art. It was a memorial. He’d hung these weapons in honor of his fallen friends.

The sudden somberness of her tone seemed to have been lost on the two men.

“Huh. Well whaddya know… Wait, how did Link get his hands on fancy weapons like that? You don’t… You don’t think _Link_ is a thief, do you?!”

Before Zelda could leap to his defense, Bolson had the situation handled.

“Oh please. As if anyone who would work so hard to purchase and refurbish this beautiful home could ever be a thief. Besides, remember everything he did in Tarrey Town? And bringing Hudson and Rhondson together? He’s a saint.”

“Right, but what if his generosity stems from guilt over his thieving past!”

“Hush!” Bolson snapped, frowning sternly at his subordinate. “Don’t go spreading rumors like that without evidence! It’s unseemly!”

“Uh, r-right boss! My bad!”

“Well anyway, who cares about a bunch of dusty old relics like those?” Purah chimed in, effectually putting an end to their discussion. From the nervous glances she was shooting Zelda out of the corner of her eye, it was obvious that she was worried that the sight of the Champions’ weapons was going to upset her. “Linky probably has way more interesting things in here we can look at… Like this!”

There was a pile of clothing next to Link’s saddlebags over against the wall by the dining room table. Demonstrating her usual lack of consideration for another individual’s privacy, Purah immediately began sifting through them while Bolson and Karson began drifting around the house, examining Link’s things with interest.

“Wow. Link sure owns a lot of clothing. Who knew he was such a fashion guru?”

Feeling extremely awkward, Zelda found herself migrating over to Purah’s side. Link really did have a lot of clothing. More than she had ever realized. Most of it was different variants of tunic, as well as a few specialized outfits for dealing with more extreme environments. She wasn’t particularly interested in what she was seeing until Purah stumbled across something unusual.

“Oh wow. Uh, Zelly? You, uh… might want to take a look at this.”

It was a set of traditional Gerudo clothing. Traditional _female_ Gerudo clothing.

Zelda stared at it, nonplussed. Why in the world…?

Purah began to snicker.

“Haha… you don’t… you don’t think he…”

The implication suddenly registered in Zelda’s head and she felt herself flush from head to toe.

“W-what?! No! Link is not… not that type of person! He’s far too serious to ever partake in that sort of… behavior!”

“What sort of behavior?” Bolson asked from behind, and before Zelda could snatch the garment and hide it away, Purah was showing it off to the older man.

“My goodness!” Bolson crooned, lifting the garment top into the air and examining it with a critical eye. “Who knew that Link had such refined taste?”

“That isn’t his!” Zelda insisted adamantly.

“It’s in with his things, Zel.” Purah retorted.

“Yes, but even so-!”

“Hey, maybe he doesn’t wear it. Maybe he bought it as a gift. Y’know, for a special lady in his life.”

Her suggestive eyebrow waggle, coupled with Bolson holding the top up to his own torso as though getting a feel for how it would look, had Zelda spluttering.

“Ooh, lookie here! What a cool mask!”

Purah jerked it over her head, apparently having already forgotten about embarrassing Zelda, and a moment later there was a miniature wanna-be Bokoblin standing at Zelda’s side.

“This is so cool! Here, Zel, you put one on!”

Something soft and dark blue was shoved into her hands.

“I- what?! No! I can’t…! We shouldn’t be wearing Link’s clothing without permission!”

“Why not?” Bolson asked through his veil; he had somehow managed to don the entire Gerudo outfit without her noticing.

“B-because, it’s not…!” Wait, _what?!_ When had he had time to do that?! _And where were the clothes he’d been wearing before?!_

“Hey guys, look what I found under the stairs!”

From the corner of the house, Karson emerged carrying an armful of old weapons.

“It’s like a treasure-trove! I knew Link was a class-A hoarder!”

“Snap!” Purah declared, her eyes just about bugging out of her head. “I have an amazing idea! Zelly, put that on! Karson, give me some of those weapons!”

And that was how, a few minutes later, Zelda found herself in the center of the room, the table pushed to the side, wearing Link’s hood and holding aloft an old sword and shield. She felt utterly ridiculous.

“Alrighty! Just hold it up ‘til you see us all on the screen and then press the red icon!”

Karson looked stupefied, holding aloft Zelda’s Sheikah Slate which Purah had apparently been carrying on her person for reasons the smaller girl refused to explain.

“Er… What’s a ‘screen’? And what’s an ‘icon’ for that matter?”

“It’s the big red glowy thing! Geez, what is wrong with the youth of today?!”

If that comment had sounded weird coming from the mouth of a child, nobody said anything about it.

“Oh, you mean this thing here?”

CLICK.

“No, don’t press it yet, wait until we’re ready!”

“Oh, sorry!”

“Alright, now let’s get in position! Bolson, you come over here and get down on the floor. Act like a maiden in distress!”

“Okey-doo~!”

“Zelly, come at me like you’re Link slaying a monster!”

Flushing to the tips of her ears in morbid embarrassment, Zelda had no recourse but to do what Purah asked. She felt as though she were the biggest fool in the history of creation, but… well, the others did seem to be enjoying it, and if she were being completely honest with herself, there was a small part of her that found something rather thrilling about holding aloft a sword and shield like she were the Hero of Legend.

Upon seeing the overly-dramatic snarl on Purah’s face, clearly trying to get into the role of the Bokoblin, Zelda had to fight down the urge to snort with laughter and made an extra effort to play the part of the Hero, trying to mimic that intense, focused look Link got whenever he was in a battle. Her shield was raised, her sword held up behind her as through preparing for a slash. Over on the side, Karson began taking pictures.

As Zelda and Purah gazed intensely into each other’s eyes, as one the two began to crack, struggling with all their might to restrain their laughter and not ruin the scene.

Bolson, however, was a complete professional; throwing his head back with a high-pitched effeminate wail, he laid his hand across his forehead in distress, looking as though he were about to faint. He was really getting into this.

They wound up taking several pictures in several different scenes, laughing uproariously all the while, and the longer they messed around, the sillier and sillier the pictures became. Zelda pretending to run Purah through with her sword. Purah pretending to devour Bolson. Bolson performing a bizarre dance. They even pulled Karson in for some, convincing him to pretend to be a royal guard. Zelda wasn’t certain for how long they kept this up, but as all good things do, this too eventually came to an end.

And it did so with the resounding crash of the front door nearly being torn off its hinges as a tense, angry Link barged into his home, weapon raised, ready to kill whoever was intruding.

Karson, still wearing Link’s soldier breastplate and helmet, let out a high-pitched scream of terror and dove behind the table.

For her part, Zelda stood stalk-still, rooted to the spot, her heart thundering in her ears as fright and embarrassment warred equally within her. For a moment, everyone was silent.

Finally, Bolson, who was standing right in front of Zelda, clutching desperately to her hands as though he were declaring his undying love to her (as that was the scene they’d been shooting when Link had so rudely interrupted), exclaimed, “Link! There you are~! We’ve been so worried that you’ve been out so late! I hope you don’t mind, we let your little lady friends into your house so they didn’t have to wait out in the cold. No need to thank us.”

Apparently, he wasn’t going to mention how he’d let them in via sledgehammer, or try to explain why it was that they were all dressed up in his clothing.

Link didn’t respond right away. He remained where he was in the doorway, his weapon raised, his face unreadable, as his eyes slowly scanned their faces, taking in the bizarre scene in front of him. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or surprised.

When his eyes landed on her, they stopped, and for a long moment he stood there merely taking her in.

She felt horribly self-conscious for a moment; there she was in her night gown with no shoes, standing in the middle of his house, uninvited, and wearing his traveling hood over her unkempt hair while she pretended to wield one of his swords and shields. She looked like a child playing pretend. Actually… no, that was exactly what she was doing. And he had caught her red-handed.

In spite of herself, in spite of how embarrassed she felt and how worried she was that he’d be upset, she found herself suddenly gripped with an absurd desire to laugh. Before she could stop herself, a stupid, guilty grin wormed its way onto her face. Well, she’d been found out playing the fool; might as well own up to it.

To her immense relief, at the sight of her dopey grin, all of the tension seemed to leave his body. Shoulders slumping, he let his weapon fall to his side with a weary sort of sigh as he brought his free hand up to rub at his face in a tired sort of way, as though the sight of them playing around with his things had exhausted him more than anything else.

Finally, with a dismissive sort of gesture, he set his sword down against the wall and turned back to the others.

“I see Zelda has chosen to throw a house party in my absence.”

“It was all Purah’s idea!” She found herself shouting, eliciting a shocked ‘hey!’ from her friend.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” Link replied, looking like he was trying to fight back a smile of his own and earning another angry ‘hey!’ from Purah. “Would you all be so kind as to put my stuff back where you found it?”

With a chorus of awkward chuckles, the four intruders went about doing just that.

Under the cover of the commotion of changing clothes, Link drew Zelda over to the side.

“You mind telling me what exactly was going on here?”

There was no accusation in his tone, just curiosity tinged with amusement. Deciding not to give him any further excuses to laugh at her, she changed the subject.

“You mind telling me what you’re going to do with those?”

She pointed to the weapons of the Champions hanging on the walls, and Link sighed.

“They were gifted to me by the leaders of the various races, but I… I couldn’t bring myself to use them. I didn’t want to run the risk of one of them breaking. I know they could be repaired, but I… It just wouldn’t be the same, you know?”

“I do know.” She replied, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

He blinked in surprise, taken aback, but then let out a bark of laughter.

“Oh, right, sorry. I was thinking that I should return them. I know you said we were heading off to Zora’s Domain next, to visit King Dorephan and check of Vah Ruta. I figured that was as good a time as any to give Mipha’s Trident back. Now that Hyrule is safe, it should be returned to her family. And when we visit the other races… I’ll return the other weapons, too.”

There was a quiet moment as the two survivors of the Calamity basked in a moment of shared mourning, exchanging thoughts and feelings they didn’t need to voice aloud.

Link’s eyes suddenly focused, zeroing in on her face with an intensity that made her breath catch. Slowly, Link lifted his hand, his fingers lightly brushing her chin, following her jaw-line, almost as if he were going to cup her face…

With a jerking motion, he wrenched the hood off of her head, sending her hair flying in a wild disarray.

“I just washed this.” He stated in mock-disapproval.

With a snort of laughter, the happy mood from before was returned and she slapped him playfully on the arm. Everything was back to normal.

“Though I don’t know how I feel about you wandering around at night, even if Purah put you up to it.” Link continued. “I know Hateno is generally safe from monsters, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t other people out there who mean you harm, princess-“

“Where have you been all day?” She cut in, not in the mood for a lecture. Her evening had been oddly perfect thus far, even if nothing that had happened had seemed normal in the slightest. She didn’t want him to ruin that for her by making her feel guilty.

“Running errands.” He replied casually, the exact same answer he’d given her when he’d left earlier that afternoon. “Doing chores, mostly. Washing my clothes and cleaning my armor and weapons, which is why they were left sitting out like that. I also set about procuring more supplies for our trip to Zora’s Domain, and helped some of the locals with a monster problem down by the coast. That’s why I’m back so late.”

Of course. Doing chores and fighting monsters while she sat around having fun. How was it that he made her feel guilt without even trying? When was the last time Link had just… fooled around? Done something just for the sake of fun, and not for any other reason? His every action seemed to have some actual purpose, and while that was certainly commendable, it also just seemed sad. She needed to find some way to rectify this…

“You two should probably be getting to bed. It’s late, and we’ve a full day tomorrow. I’ll accompany the two of you back up to the lab, and then-“

“What, leaving already?!” Came the affronted voice of Bolson as he returned from where he’d been changing. “But you only just got here! We haven’t even had time to catch up!”

“Sorry, Bolson,” Link replied, adopting his tone of polite detachment, the one he always used when he was dealing with others while on ‘Princess Guard Duty’, “but my lady needs her rest-“

“Oh, horse manure.” Bolson cut in with a flippant hand gesture. “Zelly, tell your man here that he needs to learn to loosen up a bit!”

Link scowled, no doubt more upset over the implication that he was ‘Zelda’s man’ and the impropriety that implied than he was over being told to loosen up, but Zelda ignored his imploring stare and met his gaze head-on. Truth be told, she was a little tired, but she also liked Bolson and Karson and wanted to spend more time with them, and… well, she was having so much fun tonight, she didn’t want it to end.

“Link,” she stated primly, straightening her back and adopting a look of regal calm, much to Link’s obvious annoyance, “I am going to stay here and talk with my new friends Bolson and Karson for a while.”

“My lady-”

“If you’re worried over my well-being,” she cut in hastily, “then I suppose you’ll just have to come along, won’t you?”

He gaped, looking floored. From the side, Purah let out a whoop of maniacal laughter, and Bolson all but cheered.

“Mmm, I love me a girl with fire~! Okey-doo, come on, Link, you heard the lady! It’s R-and-R time!”

Before Link could say anything else, Bolson seized him by the arm and dragged him towards the glowing remains of their campfire where Karson was already working to rekindle the flames. He turned to shoot Zelda a venomous look over his shoulder to which she responded by playfully sticking her tongue out. She would force him to have fun no matter what it took, and he was going to like it

And that was how they spent the rest of the evening. Zelda, Link, Purah, Bolson, and Karson, sitting around a campfire outside Link’s house. Laughing. Telling stories. Roasting nuts on the open fire. Link was a little moody at first, but with the combined efforts of Zelda, Purah, and Bolson, he quickly caved and began joining in the conversation. It was an experience unlike anything Zelda had ever known. It was almost like… having friends.

Sure, Zelda had had friends. Impa, Purah, and Robbie for starters. The other Champions. Link, after a fashion, once she’d stopped hating him and had begun giving him a chance. But before, there had always been a barrier between her and the rest of the world. Her status kept others at bay. It was something they could never forget, something they always saw when they looked at her.

Now? Bolson and Karson had no idea who she was. Purah and Link did, but ever since the Calamity had ended, there had been a shift in her dynamic with the people she used to know. Purah had never really been one to stand on ceremony, but her transformation into a child seemed to have enhanced this quality. She and Zelda shared a unique situation; two old souls in young bodies. She felt less like a Sheikah advisor and more like a sister than ever before.

And Link?

She studied him out of the corner of her eye as the group talked and laughed into the early hours of the morning and showed no signs of stopping. He was laughing more now than she’d ever seen. He exchanged quips with Bolson, told jokes to Karson, and had several battles of sarcastic retorts with Purah. It was as though there, illuminated in the flickering warmth of the fire, she was seeing an entirely different person. A Link not bound by duty, a Link not constantly obsessed with treating her like royalty, a Link not always on guard.

They spent the night side-by-side, their knees touching, occasionally stealing each other’s roasted nuts as they talked and laughed with their newfound friends. The way the firelight danced in Link’s eyes was captivating, and the grin on his face as he relaxed around them was every bit as warm as air around their campfire. And Zelda had never felt more comfortable.

When the sun eventually began to rise, the group gave in to their exhaustion and headed off to their individual beds. For her part, Zelda had a hard time wiping the contented smile from her face. Rather than trudge all the way back up the mountain to Purah’s lab, Link carried the sleeping scientist into his house and, after mounting the staircase, laid her down on his bed. He offered to set up his sleeping bag for Zelda on the rug by his writing desk, but she shrugged him off with a yawn and crawled into his bed beside Purah. The girl was so small that she hardly took up any space.

With the sort of casual indifference that one has only when one is moments away from a much-needed sleep, Zelda tugged Link’s blanket up over her dirty feet and snuggled down into his mattress, completely oblivious to the fact that she was sleeping in a man’s bed. Moments before drifting away, a stray thought bubbled up from the depths of her subconscious and she found herself sitting up in alarm, looking for Link.

To her immense surprise, he had removed his tunic so he was left in just a long undershirt and a pair of breeches, and was in the process of curling up on the rug to sleep. He met her startled gaze with a tired, curious frown.

“You’re sleeping inside.” She found herself blathering before she could stop.

Link winced, then looked down, chastised.

“I… yes. It’s just, the sun is rising and with it being so bright out, I… Forgive me. I should have realized this was improper-“

“No!” She blurted out, rather louder than she had intended. For a horrid moment she thought she’d woken Purah, but the only reaction that came from the smaller girl was a particularly boorish grunt.

Link was staring at her as though she were mad. Hurriedly, she tried to wrack her thoughts for some plausible excuse to keep him indoors. She hated it when he slept outside, it made her feel so awful. What would his neighbors say if they saw him? Out in the grass with all the bugs and the animals and the heat from the sun… Sure, he was accustomed to sleeping outdoors – she was too, after a fashion – but just because he could didn’t mean he should. Particularly when he had a perfectly usable house like this one.

Only… if she tried to appeal to his sense of reason, he’d beat her down with talk of ‘duty’ and ‘propriety’. She needed something better, something that would cancel out all arguments…

“I… I feel… safer… when you’re near me…”

Heat flooded her cheeks for the umpteenth time since arriving at his house. Oh Hylia, what had possessed her to say that? There was a measure of truth to it, sure – she did feel safer when he was around. But that was true in every context, not just when she was sleeping. Nights did tend to be particularly hard on her ever since leaving the castle, but that wasn’t something she had ever planned on telling him. He had enough to worry about as it was. Worse, it made her sound like one of those pathetic damsels from those old, romantic stories her nursemaid used to read to her! What must he think of her now?! She could melt right now into the ground of pure shame!

Before she could will the Goddess to take pity on her and smite her where she sat, a sudden look of gentleness and understanding appeared on Link’s face, tinged with a hint of guilt.

“I understand, princess.” He replied, his tone soft, as he settled himself back down on the rug. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Swallowing thickly, Zelda nodded and slowly lowered herself back down onto the mattress.

Well. That… hadn’t gone quite how she’d expected it to, but… he wasn’t sleeping outside. And while part of her was horrifically ashamed that he knew (or at the very least, suspected) that she might be afraid of being alone at night, at least now she could use this as an excuse to get him to stop sleeping outside by himself. A silver-lining, then. That made it all worthwhile, right?

With a silent growl, she rolled onto her side, determined to fall asleep quickly and forget this exchange had ever happened.

To her absolute disgust, Purah was drooling on the pillow in front of her.

Groaning, she rolled over onto her other side and buried her face in her arms. The mattress had a comforting, familiar scent that she couldn’t quite put a name to. Before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep, her dreams full of moonlight and cross-dressing men.  



	4. Self-Defense

It started the day after they left Hateno, as the two sat together by the campfire under the gradually darkening sky, eating their simple dinner of roasted mushrooms and rice that Link had managed to procure in town the day before.

He’d been sitting awkwardly atop a boulder, struggling not to scarf it all down like he usually did and let his poor manners earn any more of those quiet, disgusted looks from Zelda, when the princess suddenly looked over at him and said, completely out of nowhere, “Link, I would like it if you would begin instructing me in the art of swordplay.”

The mouthful of food he’d been working on suddenly went down the wrong pipe, and a moment later he was coughing up flecks of rice and spittle into the flickering flames.

Zelda looked on calmly and without comment as though Link spewing food everywhere was an everyday occurrence. (Though to hear her describe the way he ate, you’d almost think it was.)

When he was finally able to breathe again, he took a moment to clean his face and gather his thoughts before responding with a careful, “May I ask what brought this on?”

“Well,” she replied immediately in that all-too familiar tone that let Link know that she’d been rehearsing her response and had it completely committed to memory, “it just seems practical, does it not? I mean to say, while the Calamity is finally gone and monster attacks are becoming less and less frequent, it still stands to reason that any traveler on the road ought to at least know the basics of self-defense; I know that that is why I have you here, of course, but it seems just silly to expect me to stand back defenseless while you do all the work, particularly if we were to be ambushed by a larger party. Our combined survivability would only increase if I at least knew the basics of combat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Link opened his mouth to answer, but it seemed Zelda had the bit in her teeth now.

“In addition, my muscles seem to have atrophied a little while I was trapped within the castle; I’ve regained a good bit of my strength since then, but a daily exercise routine would surely do wonders to help me regain my stamina, and what better way than in combat training?”

A bemused smile wormed its way across his face. She was rambling. She did that whenever she was nervous. He tried to speak, and once again she ran him over.

“Also, you know, learning new skills helps one to keep their mind sharpened. Purah would never forgive me if I allowed myself to grow dim-witted, and while she never really approved of physical violence, learning is still learning no matter how you look at it.”

“Princess-”

“Then there’s the added benefit of physical exhaustion helping one to achieve sounder sleep at night-”

“Zelda!”

She cut off abruptly, her eyes wide, her cheeks pink.

“Oh. Um. I’m sorry.” She glanced down at her half-finished supper, then back up at him, her gaze imploring. “…So? What do you think?”

He stared at her for a moment without responding, letting the silence drag out for longer than was necessary, then turned his attention back to his dinner with a shrug.

“Sure. Sounds fine to me.”

“But Link, I-! …What did you say?”

He glanced back up, his mouth once again full of rice and mushrooms, and had to force back the laugh that would have once again sent food particles flying into the flames as he took in his Princess’s startled expression. He swallowed quickly so he could answer without giving her any more fuel for her occasional accusations that he was an ‘uncultured oaf’.

“I said yes. Why? Did you want me to refuse?”

“No! No, no, of course not! I just… I didn’t think you’d agree without a fight.”

Link smiled to himself, but didn’t answer right away. Well, she wasn’t wrong; truth be told, he wasn’t completely sold on the idea. Keeping Zelda safe was his job, his duty, and that included keeping her safe from herself. He knew her well, and knew that after a few lessons in swordplay she’d let her fledgling skill go to her head and think she could take on challenges that she wasn’t yet prepared for, which would inevitably lead to her getting injured, or worse. If he had things his way, he’d turn her down and remind her that she had other, more important things to be working on, such as the restoration of Hyrule, not playing at being a knight. Her life was invaluable; she had a nation to restore, a goddess-blessed bloodline to carry on. Anyone could swing a sword.

Only… well, he also knew that once she got an idea in her head, nothing could turn her away. He could say no, but she’d beat him down with her iron resolve and he’d find himself giving in anyway. That, or she might try training herself. He might as well play along for now. Hopefully, he’d be able to prevent her from doing anything excessive…

“As you say, it’s a practical decision.” He tried to keep the irony out of his voice and failed miserably; thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice. “We can get started after dinner, if you’d like.”

From the look on her face, one would have thought that Link had just promised to give her the moon. For once, she finished her dinner faster than he did.

* * *

There was a clearing just to the side of their campsite, and it was in that location that Link began his instruction, just like Zelda informed him that she’d seen him do in the castle back before the Calamity had struck and just like Link had absolutely no memory of doing. Still, some part of his subconscious must remember this, because something about teaching another how to fight filled him with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu…

And frustration.

“Princess… Princess, what are you doing? Stop that before you hurt yourself.”

Zelda, who had been wildly slashing her makeshift weapon through the air with childlike gusto stopped and turned to Link, her cheeks slightly flushed from exertion.

“What? You told me to take a few practice swings to get the feel of my weapon-“

“Yes, but you’re swinging far too hard; you’re going to throw your arm out if you keep doing that. Remember: don’t overthink it. Just keep it simple.”

‘Don’t overthink it’ might have been the worst possible bit of advice one could give the princess of Hyrule. She frowned down at the ‘weapon’ in her hand (actually one of his spare torches) and then turned her frown on Link.

“Do you honestly think I can learn how to swordfight properly if you do not even give me an actual sword?”

Link sighed, rubbing the heel of palm into his suddenly tired eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. Somewhere in the back of his mind, this setting felt very familiar. Why was it that first-time students of swordplay always thought they knew more than the instructor did?

“Zelda, you didn’t actually think we were going to start practice by swinging real blades at one another, did you?”

A very poor excuse for a bodyguard he’d be then. Her cheeks flushed a little darker, this time from embarrassment, and she proceeded to do just what she always did whenever he pointed out that she was being foolish; she changed the subject.

“Shouldn’t you be giving me instruction on the correct way to swing my weapon? Such as the preferred angle, the exact amount of force I should apply to each swing, what stance I ought to take when I begin a duel-“

“No.” A duel? Oh Goddess, this was going exactly as he feared it would. “Forget whatever preconceived notions you have of swordplay. If I had ten years and my goal was to make you an expert swordswoman, then maybe we could talk about that. But we don’t, and that’s not why we’re doing this. This instruction is meant for exercise, and is to be used in emergencies only. I’m teaching you the basics of fighting, what I think you need to know in order to survive should the worst happen. Now, pay attention: what is the best way to ensure that you aren’t killed by a monster?”

“Um…” she cast her eyes about, looking for an answer. “Practice?”

“No. The best way to avoid being killed by a monster is to never have to face one.”

He bit back a smile as a look of annoyance flashed across her face. Ok, yes, that was a child’s answer, but it was true all the same, and in any event she looked like she needed a reminder. That, and it was fun to push her buttons sometimes.

“If you can run, you should. That’s your first lesson.”

“But you never run-!”

“I am not a beginner.” Link cut in, a little more sternly than he’d intended, and she flashed him a petulant scowl. “Now, what if you can’t run? What’s the best way to ensure survival then?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know… A skilled defense?”

“No. The best way to make sure that you live is by making sure your enemy dies first. Beginners often get themselves into trouble because they think battles are about skill and fancy blade work, but they’re wrong. Battles are about killing. They always have been. They always will be.

“Now: when you’re in a fight, always remember to keep moving. A stationary target is a dead target. Most monsters are hyper-aggressive and often push for all-out attack, so your best bet is usually to do the same. If you’re without a shield, like you are right now, don’t bother trying to parry or block their attacks; wait until your opponent is in the middle of an action before striking wherever they’re open. Be aggressive, take the initiative, and always go for a killing blow.

“Let’s do some actual practicing now.”

It didn’t go well.

Zelda, it seemed, was having a hard time differentiating actual combat from the flashy sword fights she grew up watching performers reenact in plays and traveling shows. She kept insisting on striking at his weapon rather than striking at him, as though the goal were to disarm her adversary rather than strike them down. He wasn’t sure if it was her good-natured heart making her shy away from even pretending to take a life, or if she simply wasn’t taking this seriously.

Finally, after trying and failing to correct her misconceptions several different times, Link grew impatient and, with a quick flick of his wrist, knocked the torch from Zelda’s surprised hand and held his own up to her throat.

“You’re dead.”

Zelda, who was already flushed though she’d done little more than swing a stick around (she must still be weaker than he’d realized), blinked up at him in surprise and then asked, “…Could you show me how to do that?”

Link sighed, lowering his weapon and stepping away.

“No.”

“What? Why not?!”

“Princess, you can’t even get the basics down. Why would I teach you how to disarm someone if you can’t even handle just stabbing them?”

She squawked indignantly, then crossed her arms and turned away.

“Well, perhaps I’m simply ill-suited for this particular weapon.”

Sure. Blame the weapon. Well, maybe this would make her give up on wanting to learn-

“Maybe we should move on to something else.”

Link froze. Dread began welling up inside of him.

“Princess… You asked me to teach you how to wield a sword-”

“Yes, but what does it matter what sort of weapon I use? Self-defense is still self-defense, is it not?”

“Your Highness, I-”

“Oh, come on, Link! There’s still at least a half an hour of daylight left! Surely you could show me at least a few things, and I might just find a weapon that is better suited for me! It can’t be too difficult, not for someone as skilled as you!”

Link met her begging, puppy-dog eyes with his traditional deadpan stare. Did she actually think that complimenting him was going to change his mind…? Her shadow stretched out long behind her; the sun would be completely down in just a bit, and then she wouldn’t be able to bother him about this anymore today. Perhaps it would be best to go ahead and get this all out of the way at once… Let her try her hand and give up at the rest of his weapon types and kill the idea of her learning to fight right here and now.

With a resigned sigh, Link turned and trudged back over to where he left his things.

“Give me a moment; I’ll see what I can find for you to try next.”

The cry of delight Zelda offered up almost made it all worth it.

Almost.

* * *

“No- don’t twirl it through the air like that! You’re going to hurt yourself! It’s a spear- you stab with it! Stab!”

“What? I’m certain I’ve seen soldiers in the castle swinging these things around-”

“No, those were probably quarter-staves-”

“Well what’s the difference?”

“Well, one has a pointed end, and the other-”

With a dull thud, Zelda somehow managed to slam the base of the makeshift spear into her nose, prompting her to drop it on the ground with a pained squeak.

“…Maybe we should try something else.”

* * *

“Hnnnnrrrggghhh!!!!”

“Wait… wait, hold on, don’t-!”

“I… I’ve almost… got…!”

“Princess, stop-!”

“Hi-YAA- AAAAHHHHHHH!!!”

As expected, Zelda overbalanced on the swing and proceeded to crash gracelessly to the floor, somehow managing to send the axe flying through the air like a homicidal frisbee.

“Ok, stop. We’re trying something else before you give yourself a hernia.”

* * *

“…You’re not drawing the string back far enough if you want to hit your target-”

“Link, I’m trying my best!”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough, so try harder! You’ve got to pull it all the way back-”

“ _I cannot pull the string back any farther!”_

“Fine. Then at least show me that you can shoot the arrow in the direction of your target. Now, pick one of the trees just over there, and-”

“I can’t hold on any longer!”

With a twang, the bow string slipped through Zelda’s fingers and slapped against her forearm, prompting her to squeak and drop the bow on the ground, but not before the arrow was sent twirling straight up into the air. It landed beside them harmlessly, somehow managing to imbed itself point-first into the grass.

A moment passed as the two simply stood and stared.

Finally, Zelda turned to Link and said with a shrug, “Well… At the very least, I hit something.”

* * *

Yanking the arrow from the ground, Link juggled the axe, the pole, the torches, and the bow in his arms as he made his way back to his saddlebags, not even bothering to hide his sigh of relief that this was all over.

“We’re done.” He called over his shoulder, unable to keep the thread of annoyance out of his voice.

“Wait!” Zelda said quickly, hastening to catch up to him. “How do you mean that? We’re done for the evening, or… we’re done for good?”

Link opened his arms and let the weapons clatter uselessly to the ground, unable to dredge up the will to put them back where he had claimed them from. Turning back to Zelda, he decided he didn’t really care if he made her mad. This entire thing had been a foolish waste of time, and the only thing they’d managed to accomplish was giving him a headache.

“What do you think?” He grunted sarcastically, stalking past her in the direction of their quickly-dying fire. If he worked quickly, he might be able to save that, at least.

“What?!” Zelda cried out, offended. “But why?! You can’t give up on me after only one session! I’ll admit, I didn’t exactly do very well, but not everyone is a prodigy like you are, Link! Give me another chance!”

Link felt a vein in his temple start to throb. A prodigy like him, huh? He sort of half-remembered having a similar discussion before the Calamity. She used to think that Link’s skills in combat had just come to him naturally, that life had been unfairly kind to him and unfairly cruel to her. She’d been astounded and embarrassed to find out that his ‘talents’ were actually derived from years and years of careful, rigorous training, and though he didn’t really remember any of that, he still practiced every day if only because his body told him that it was right to do so. It was obnoxious and childish that she was pulling that card out again, but he knew that that wasn’t really what she was on about. Not this time.

Turning around, unable to keep his irritation in check, Link spat out, “When are you going to fess up about what’s really going on here?”

Zelda stopped short, her eyes wide with surprise at both the anger and the accusation in Link’s tone. Fidgeting uncomfortably, she managed to let out a confused, “I… What are you talking about?”

“This!” Link snapped, gesturing towards the pile of weapons he’d left discarded by his saddlebags. “This whole ‘teach me how to fight’ thing! This has nothing to do with ‘exercise’ or ‘self-defense’ and you know it! This is just you transferring your guilt over failing to stop the Calamity before he destroyed the kingdom! You think that if you were a fighter like me and the other Champions that things might have gone differently!”

Zelda’s eyes had gone very wide, and though it was difficult to see in the rapidly gathering darkness, he got the feeling that her cheeks had gone pale.

“L-Link, I…”

“Goddess, Zelda… When are you going to get it through that thick head of yours that none of this is your fault? Nobody blames you. Not me, not the other Champions, not your father, not the kingdom… Nobody blames you but yourself. You did everything you could. Let it go.”

He tried to ameliorate his tone there in the end, but exhaustion and irritation combined to make his tone unnecessarily blunt and condescending. As expected, Zelda flinched away from his expression at first before turning back, her jaw set, her fists clenched, her eyes blazing with anger and reproach.

“That isn’t what this is about, Link!” She fired back, her voice raised. “And who are you to talk about letting go! I noticed how your usual patience and understanding with your students back at the castle was missing from your instruction with me just now! Admit that you never wanted to teach me how to fight because you’re afraid! Not just that I’ll get hurt; you’re afraid because you’ve lost everything you had except for me and your ‘duty’, and if I learned how to protect myself, or found others who could, you think your life would lose its purpose!”

Something like icy fear spiked through his heart. He wanted to throw that absurd, childish accusation right back in her face, to deny that he had ever felt that way or been that insecure, but it was like her words were illuminating a part of him he hadn’t even realized was there. He needed to change the subject and fast.

“Listen…” He began, softening his tone and trying his best to sound contrite, “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, and I think we’re both just tired. Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat, princess, and I’ll work on getting that fire going again.”

There. A simple apology and an invitation for them both to back down and cool their heads. Granted, he didn’t feel very sorry at the moment, but he knew he was deep down. Somewhere. It’s not like he enjoyed making Zelda upset, he just… whatever. It was better to let this conversation die and move on. Or so he thought.

Zelda, however, was apparently not on the same page.

“Goddesses, would you please stop calling me that?!”

“Calling you what?” Link shot back, baffled. “Your name?”

“No, not my…! _Princess is not my name!_ It’s my title, my station- or used to be! My name is Zelda! How would you like it if I went around calling you ‘Sir Knight’ all of the time?!”

Link grit his teeth, struggling not to raise his voice to match her volume. Where in the world was this coming from?!

“I cannot do that and you know it. Calling you by your given name, I… It’s highly improper-”

“What are you talking about?! You call me Zelda all the time!”

It was Link’s turn to blush. It was true, he had been slipping up an awful lot as of late. He knew deep down that the old him would have never dared to speak her name so casually, but now, after having lost most of his previous memories, in this strange new world, their relationship had been mutating almost without him noticing. She didn’t ‘feel’ like a princess, at least not in his head. She felt like… like… well, whatever it was, it made him lower his guard far more frequently then he ought to. But it was high time that he rectify that.

“My apologies, Princess.” Link replied stiffly, trying to adopt the more formal posture he usually had when speaking to her in the past; if anything, the flames of rage in her eyes merely grew in intensity. “I should not have allowed myself to become so familiar with you. It is improper for one of my station to treat the future ruler of our kingdom as though she were any other woman-”

_“Link!”_

He flinched. He’d never heard her take that tone before. Oh Goddess, now he’d done it. If she had been angry before, she was in a complete fury now. Her face was red, her left eye twitching, her mouth opening and closing like a Hylian Bass as she struggled to piece together the correct words to explain exactly how much she hated him in that moment, and her hands… well, her hands were doing some odd sort of ‘clenching’ motion in front of her, like she was imagining tearing her fingernails through the soft, tender flesh of his face.

“Allowed yourself…?! Familiar?! _Any other…?!_ ” Finally, her garbled barrage of false-starts and half-statements ended with a loud declaration of “What kingdom?! There isn’t a kingdom anymore!”

Link jerked his head back up from where he’d been examining their shoes in interest, his own anger suddenly leaping back into his throat.

“Yes there is.” He whispered, his surprisingly voice rough and grating. “Hyrule lives, and will continue to live so long as you draw breath, Pr… Your Highness. Isn’t that what we’ve been fighting for all this time? For Hyrule? For the restoration of our country? Or have you been deluding me?”

“Of course not.” She snapped, irate. “The restoration of Hyrule is my one and only goal, Link, you know that. But that doesn’t mean that we are subject to the rules and laws that made up the old kingdom. Impa and I spoke of this a little back in Kakariko. When we rebuild Hyrule – and we will! You and I, together! – I will be its queen, and I will be free to enact whatever laws I see fit. And if I decide in that future day that my appointed knight is allowed to call me by my name, or treat me like an equal, then you will just have to put up with that, won’t you?”

Link could only gape in horror. How would the country react to that?! Keeping up Zelda’s image was part of Link’s duty; he couldn’t allow for rumors to spread that called into question the nature of their relationship, not if they marred the princess’s image in the eyes of her people!

Zelda was still speaking, however.

“But none of that matters now, because in this moment, there is no Hyrule Kingdom. In this moment, there are no rules or laws that bind us or dictate the manner in which we must interact. And I know what you’re going to say,” she butt in quickly as Link opened his mouth to cut her off, “you swore your oath to protect me and keep me safe before the kingdom fell and you still consider it binding, which is fine. I am grateful to you Link, more than you know…”

She hesitated, and Link was surprised to find her mask of anger suddenly faltering, her voice mysteriously softening, her shoulders becoming weighted and sad.

“…but that doesn’t change the fact that, in this moment, I am still the heir to a throne of nothing.”

It was as though he could hear the echo of King Rhoam’s words calling out to him through the ages. Somehow, coming from Zelda’s own lips, they stung even worse than they had that day on the castle’s outer walls. The anger that had been coursing through them both dissipated like a pricked bubble. Now, he just felt tired.

“Zelda…” He stepped forward, once more throwing protocol out the window without even realizing he was doing it as he placed his hands comfortingly on her upper arms. “Don’t. Don’t ever say that about yourself. You have done and are doing everything that you can for your people. I won’t let anyone try and claim otherwise, least of all you.”

She let out a humorless laugh, turning her face up to meet his, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“You said my name again. See, it isn’t so hard, is it?”

Link grunted as though struck in the gut. He was really bad at this. Before the Calamity, it had been difficult to see Zelda as anything but a princess. Why was this so hard now?

“I… This isn’t…”

Zelda reached up and seized his arms in her own hands, so the two were standing face-to-face, clinging to each other.

“Link… Please… I just, I… I can’t live like this. I can’t spend every moment of every day with the weight of my duty crushing down on me. I’m not asking for a reprieve, or for anyone to take it up in my place- I know what I must do. But if I don’t have anyone, even just one person, who sees me for who I am instead of what I am, then I’ll go mad long before Hyrule is saved. I need someone who sees Zelda before they see the princess. I need… I need a friend.”

Link found it was all he could to do meet her gaze. Guilt was pressing down on him now, threatening to crush him into the ground. All this time he’d been pushing her off, desperately clinging to his old, chivalric ideals in the vain hope that it might help him reclaim a bit of who he was, claiming it was his duty to protect her… but the entire time he’d been hurting her instead.

She needed a friend… was that what they were, now? It was odd; before, she had hated him, pushed him away, spurned his very existence… and then, after the incident with the Yiga, they had become… something else. Companions. Confidants. She’d trusted him, and he’d trusted her, and then… then came the Calamity, and his one-hundred-year sleep, and the memory loss. But even though now they spoke more and laughed more and did more together, he’d never once actually stopped to question the nature of their relationship.

Friends? Could they be friends?

Zelda was still staring up at him, her gaze imploring, her expression just slightly hopeful.

Link let out a slow breath.

“Zelda, I…”

Her eyes lit up. The corners of her lips lifted in the suggestion of a smile.

“…There will have to be ground rules.” He finally conceded, and she let out a watery laugh, releasing his arms and capturing him in a rib-cracking hug.

“For example,” he pressed on, resolutely ignoring the warm feeling that was building up in his gut as he gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders, “when we’re in public, it’s probably better that I don’t treat you too familiarly. I don’t think King Dorephan will care when we pay our official visit, but some of the older folk certainly will, and I don’t want to do anything that might damage your standing in their eyes.”

“That’s fine.” She replied, finally stepping back and beaming at him. “As long as you call me Zelda when it’s just the two of us.”

The combination of the look on her face and the implication in that sentence made his heart rate pick up. Clearing his throat, Link turned away and began walking back to their campfire. Zelda followed along.

“And no matter what I call you, I am still your knight, so I still expect you to listen to me when it comes to your safety.”

“Of course, _Sir Link_.” She replied with a sarcastic bow, unable to hide the stupid grin on her face.

Link rolled his eyes, though he was smiling too, and then hesitated.

“Wait, then… is that what this was all about? The whole ‘teach me how to swordfight’ thing?”

Zelda blinked as though confused, then understanding seemed to come over her.

“Oh… No. Although I doubt I would have had the courage to say any of that if you hadn’t gotten me so annoyed earlier, so I thank you. No, I just… I suppose I was looking for something to distract me on our travels. Something new I could learn to fill up the hours I usually spend thinking about… less pleasant things.”

She didn’t expound upon that, but she didn’t have to. Memories of her time in imprisonment, the Calamity, and the weight of her duty for the future of her kingdom must be constantly on her mind. Link didn’t blame her for wanting a distraction.

“But why fighting?” He pressed, and she frowned.

“I don’t know. Why not fighting? What else is there?”

Link shrugged. “I could teach you how to cook.”

“E-excuse me?! I know how to cook!”

“Really? Since when?”

“Since always! I used to bake all the time!’

“Baking isn’t the same thing.”

“Oh, well, excuse me, _Sir Link_ , I had forgotten you were a culinary expert.”

“You know what? Fine. You’re cooking breakfast tomorrow.”

“Fine! And it will be so delicious, it will make you fall on your knees and weep!”

As Zelda went on, proclaiming her numerous alleged culinary escapades in great detail, Link allowed his thoughts to wander. A distraction, huh… Hadn’t she done the same thing before, when they’d been journeying to the Springs to find a way to unlock her Sealing Power? Yes… She’d made him help her with her horsemanship…

An idea blossomed in his mind, and the smile that formed on his face made Zelda think he was teasing her, which only set her off again, but that was fine. He’d need to send a messenger at the next stable they passed through on the way to Zora’s Domain. Hopefully, he could get it delivered before the duo made it to Tarrey Town. That ought to bring a smile to her face.

Something Zelda said in the middle of her tirade had him crashing back to reality.

“W-what? No! You are not making Hot-Footed Frog soup for breakfast!”


	5. Zora's Domain

High above the roaring falls of Zora's Domain, the clear night sky glittered like a canopy of trees, dusted by millions of tiny pinpricks of light. The moon hung round and full almost directly overhead, illuminating the sparkling, artfully sculpted stone that made up the various walkways and buildings of the Zora settlement.

Link heaved a heavy sigh, letting the cool night air fill his lungs and clear his head. It was late; far later than he was accustomed to being out, at least while he and Zelda were staying in a settlement, but King Dorephan had kept the two occupied for most of the day with royal feasts and celebrations to honor not only the end of the Calamity and the beginnings of Hyrule's restoration, but also the return of Hyrule's lost princess. Zelda had finally decided to officially reveal herself to the world (though technically, the Sheikah already knew she was back), and so unlike their visits to Kakariko and Hateno, in which they'd been able to pretend like they were ordinary travelers, their visit to Zora's Domain had been nearly endless meetings with stuffy aristocrats with nary a reprieve in sight.

The world had come to an end for over a century, but trust the Zoran aristocracy to desperately cling to pomp and circumstance, even during the apocalypse.

Their only break had been during the afternoon, when Prince Sidon had lead the two of them to visit Vah Ruta so that Zelda might check up on it and try to decipher why the large automaton had ceased to function. Link had expected to spend the bulk of the day there while she fiddled around with the machine and had hoped to practice his fishing, only Zelda hadn't needed even five minutes before declaring what the problem was.

Vah Ruta no longer had a pilot.

Well obviously, Link had wanted to say. Vah Ruta hadn't had a pilot in over a hundred years… Only, it had. Mipha's spirit had been lingering within the machine, and after being liberated from Calamity Ganon's control, it was she who had steered the beast and fired upon the demon when Link had finally stormed the castle to rescue the princess.

If Vah Ruta had no pilot now, then that meant that Mipha's spirit had finally passed on. The thought of that filled Link with an odd mix of sorrow and peace, and the trio's trek back down the mountain had been subdued, with each of them lost in their own thoughts, no doubt about Mipha. One thing had been clear to Link, however. Vah Ruta would need a new pilot.

Which is what brought Link to where he was now, wandering the arched pathways of Zora's Domain in the dead of night, armed with only a single weapon. Most of the Zoras were asleep by now, but King Dorephan had requested to keep Zelda a little longer before allowing the exhausted princess to get her much-needed beauty rest. Link knew what he wanted; he was looking for some time alone with Zelda, time to discuss his daughter and the last weeks of her life. Weeks that Zelda remembered with vivid, painful clarity. Weeks that Link did not.

He had excused himself, then, feeling terribly awkward, but if King Dorephan or Zelda were offended by him bowing out of the conversation, neither of them showed it. Instead of ruminating on things outside of his control, like his memory, Link decided to go ahead and fulfill the third duty he had set aside for himself during his visit to the domain. The first had been helping Zelda begin repairing diplomatic ties with the Zora; the second had been checking on Vah Rutah; and the third…

Down in the square below, the monument built in Mipha's honor sat illuminated in the center of a small pool of water.

There, standing directly in front of it, exactly where Link had assumed he'd been since he'd excused himself from dinner, stood Prince Sidon.

Link approached slowly, but made no effort to silence his footsteps or hide his approach, coming to a stop just behind the much taller male. When he made no indication that he acknowledged the Hylian's presence, Link cleared his throat and spoke.

"Prince Sidon. I thought I'd find you here."

Sidon let out a sigh, but it wasn't the kind people let out when they were annoyed, which emboldened him.

"Good evening, Link. You are well?"

Rather than answer the question, he replied, "I brought you something."

Stepping forward, he swung the weapon off his back and extended it to Sidon.

"The Lightscale Trident…"

For a moment, silence reigned between the two, and Sidon's face was an unreadable mask. Water gently trickled over their feet. An errant breeze tousled Link's hair.

Finally, Sidon turned away, his eyes returning to his sister's cold, stone façade.

"Thank you, Link, but I…"

He trailed off, not finishing his sentence. His gaze was locked on the statue, but his eyes seemed to be seeing something deeper, something impossibly far away.

"You…" Link hesitated, suddenly feeling awkward, his throat inexplicably dry. He licked his lips and swallowed. "Do you not want it?"

Another moment passed in which nothing was said. Link wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't expected Sidon to refuse. The trident had belonged to his sister, after all. And considering what Zelda had proposed at dinner (or rather, what Link had proposed earlier that day, which had lead to Zelda's public proposal), there was really no one better to take it up. Especially since Link still couldn't bring himself to use it.

"You… You should keep it, Link." Sidon replied, his voice unusually thick and devoid of its usual pomp and grandeur. "It is only right that it belong to you now. My sister… She loved you, Link. Keep her trident by your side, and promise me… Promise me that you'll think of her from time to time."

"I won't ever forget Mipha, Sidon," Link reaffirmed slowly, choosing to ignore for a moment the fact that he had actually forgotten Mipha for a short while; there was a weight to this conversation that he hadn't foreseen being there, and he wasn't sure how to navigate this exchange from this point forward, "nor the sacrifice she made for our nation and the people she loved. But I don't need her trident to keep her memory alive. I see her every time I come here, whenever I don my Champion's Tunic, whenever her Grace brings me back from the brink of death. And I… have the armor that she crafted for me…"

Something stuck at the back of Link's throat, and he was forced to stop to swallow it down.

Sidon let out a breath through his nostrils that might have been a sigh or else a humorless laugh. His golden eyes glinted in the moonlight.

"Link, may I ask… Do you think the two of you would have wed had the Calamity never happened?"

Link's stomach clenched. This… This was a question he'd been hoping to avoid ever having to answer. It was why he'd left Zelda to wander the halls of Zora's Domain alone this evening while she entertained King Dorephan. Talk of Mipha, of the nature of his and her relationship, of the times they spent together in their youth…

"Sidon… I'm sorry." He managed, his voice little more than a rasp. "I don't… I don't know…"

He wasn't avoiding the question. He honestly had no idea. He could count on one hand the memories he had of Mipha, and most of them came from after he'd been made Zelda's appointed knight. He knew that she had loved him, loved him romantically, desired to marry him, but he had only learned of this from Dorephan after awakening. He had the distinct feeling that he hadn't been fully aware of her feelings for him before. Was he just dense? Had he been too busy with his new duties to notice? And what of his feelings for her?

He'd been plagued by guilt ever since learning of the depth of Mipha's convictions, worried that he'd failed her, worried that he'd possibly led her on. When he thought of Mipha, he found immense pain and sadness at her loss, but he found much the same for the other Champions, even Revali, with whom he hadn't had the best of relationships. It was true that there seemed to be a little something more with Mipha, but whether that was the echo of a forgotten love or merely the added weight of a childhood friendship, he couldn't say.

He felt awful. Awful that he'd meant so much to her. Awful that he couldn't recall exactly what she'd meant to him. But nothing was worse than looking into the eyes of those who had known her best, watching them try to share their grief with him, and being unable to feel their pain in the way they desired.

He was a cad and didn't deserve their friendship or their sympathy.

Sidon, however, didn't seem surprised or upset by his answer, which caught Link off-guard. If he had admitted this to any of the old advisers, they'd have been calling for his head. Even kind, fatherly Dorephan would have become upset. But Sidon merely let out a watery chuckle, his gaze still locked on his sister's stone visage.

"I expected as much… Though it might have been nice to have had you for a brother. Truth be told, I couldn't say myself. I was too young then to remember much… I knew you, I think. Or rather, I knew of you. I had seen you a few times around the domain. But I was too enthralled by childish games to pay much attention to the goings on of the world or the troubles that plagued my older sister's heart. We were so different, she was so much older than I… I barely spent any time with her. And then…"

He swallowed thickly. The breeze picked up again, chilling against their exposed skin, but neither ever thought of moving.

"She was gone."

Tears were leaking down Sidon's face. The normally exuberant, cock-sure, energetic prince stood rigid beneath the unseeing gaze of his departed sister as though trying his hardest to mimic the monument's solidarity and poise.

"I didn't understand. She had died and the nation was in mourning, monsters roamed the land, tens of thousands had been brutally slain, cities razed to the ground… but I was only a child. All I knew was that I could no longer go out and play in the streams and rivers and ponds of our land like I wanted to because it was too dangerous. I didn't understand why. All I knew was that Mipha was connected to it somehow, and I… I blamed her. I blamed her for…  _inconveniencing_  me. How could I be so horrible?"

"Sidon." Link cut in gently. "Stop. You were only a child. How could anyone expect you to have understood what was going on? Don't be so hard on yourself."

Sidon shook his head as though he were shaking off an irritating fly.

"That isn't even the worst of it, you know. The truth, the real truth, the one I've been too ashamed to admit to anyone, especially my father… I… I barely remember Mipha at all."

The tall, proud Zora warrior clenched his fists as though to steady himself, but his body was shaking in earnest now.

"I… I can remember bits and pieces. She was small, not yet fully grown, but already fully dedicated to her duty. She was soft-spoken and kind. Shy, but more courageous than I could ever dream of being. Father and Muzu and the other elders often told me stories of her, but… Most of who she was is lost to me. I have almost no personal recollections of her at all. My own sister… A stranger…"

It was as though Sidon had unwittingly torn a hole through Link's chest, leaving his throbbing heart bare for the world to see. All of Link's pain and guilt towards having forgotten somebody so important to him… all of it was reflected in Sidon's eyes. Who would have thought that all along, there was somebody right there who could understand his pain?

Suddenly, Sidon turned on him, his eyes flashing like steel in the darkness.

"And then you come along! You and the Princess Zelda, and you demand things of me! Pilot Vah Ruta? Become a new Champion?! Take the place that rightly belongs to my sister? How?! How can you ask that of me?! I, who could never measure up to what she was! I, who cannot even remember the sound of her voice?! I have disgraced her memory enough, do not force me to dishonor her further!"

There was anger in his tone, but the bite in his words didn't carry over to his face. He looked purely miserable. Not at all like the brave, brash hero Link had met previously.

"I… I am not half the person she was… Please… "

"What are you talking about?"

Sidon swallowed, staring down at Link with a startled look as though having just remembered he was there.

"L-Link…"

"When I arrived here, your people were in a panic. The Calamity had seemingly begun to awaken from his century-long slumber, the monster attacks were once again on the rise, and Vah Ruta had gone mad, threatening to flood not only your home, but the entire eastern half of Hyrule. The one thing they had to rely on, the one thing that kept them sane and fighting, was you, Sidon."

"Link, please-"

"I'm not just saying this to make you feel better."

Sidon turned away, unable to meet Link's gaze yet still clearly caught in the throes of misery and self-deprecation.

"I know what it's like to be a failure. To feel like you've got impossible shoes to fill. But if you ask me, you're already every bit the Champion your sister was. Zelda and I didn't ask you to be the new pilot of Vah Ruta just because you're Mipha's brother. We chose you because you've already demonstrated that you have what it takes. You risked life and limb battling alongside me to calm Vah Ruta and save your sister's spirit from the clutches of the Calamity. We saved Hyrule together, you and I. You're already a hero, just like your sister."

The older Zora male remained quiet, still not meeting Link's gaze but clearly hanging on his every word.

"Your people love you. They look up to you. In spite of all that was going wrong, you never backed down, never ceased to put on a brave face and inspire them with your bold words and boundless confidence. You're a leader, Sidon.

"It's true that you're no Mipha, but… you were never supposed to be, and if she were here, she'd be the first person to tell you that. And yes, she was strong in ways that you're not, but the same is also true for you. She might have been what your people needed a hundred years ago, but you are the leader they need now. Someone who will stand at the front of the pack and guide them into the future, someone who leads not just by words but by actions. There is bold new future for Hyrule just in front of us, and what we need now more than ever are leaders who can extend the hand of friendship to others and help unify our broken people. Many of the Zora have been raised with a prejudice against other races, but you have the ability to see people as just people. Just like you did for me. We need you, Sidon."

A long moment passed in which Link stared at Sidon and Sidon stared at the ground, his shoulders quaking, trying to quell the tide of emotions that was roaring within him.

Finally, in a small, scared, broken voice, one that Link never thought he'd hear coming from such a proud, earnest, optimistic young man, he asked, "…What if I'm not good enough?"

Link couldn't help but laugh.

"We never are. But the good news is, none of us is in this alone. You'll have me and Zelda and the other new Champions to rely on, as well as the support of your father and your people. And even more than that… You have Mipha."

Link extended the trident again, and this time, Sidon slowly reached out, his fingers gently wrapping around the haft. Link didn't let go yet, however.

"She may be gone, but a part of her will always be with us. She's rooting for you Sidon, sending you all of her strength."

He finally let go, and Sidon drew the weapon in closer, staring at it with tear-filled eyes.

"Believe in yourself like we do. Things will get hard, and we're bound to make more than a few mistakes. But we're all in this together. We'll pull through, somehow."

The Zora prince offered up one last watery smile.

"Thank you, Link. You are right. I have a duty to my people, to our country, to my sister… and to myself. I will not run from this. I will do my best to learn how to pilot Vah Ruta and help you and Zelda in your efforts to restore Hyrule."

Link smiled back, feeling a little emotional himself.

"Thanks, Sidon. We'll be counting on you."

As one, the two turned back to Mipha's monument. A peaceful moment passed in which Link considered how grateful he was to have found new companions in this ruined world as great as the ones in the old world had been.

After a while, Sidon spoke again.

"I, um… I would appreciate it if you didn't mention to the others how emotional I became just now, Link. If… If any of the others saw me weeping like this, they might lose confidence in my abilities to lead."

"I don't know about that," Link replied, thinking about Sidon's fan club and how they would probably gush over the thought of their strong, fearless prince having a tender, emotional side, "but your secret's safe with me. Actually, I kind of feel better knowing that even guys as seemingly put-together as you can have off-moments."

Sidon scoffed, sounding much more like his old self. "Please. I have a hard time believing a great Hylian hero such as you has ever lost control of your emotions."

The memory of Zelda trying to force-feed him her attempt at pumpkin and Hot-Footed Frog soup the other morning and his manly shrieks of terror once the taste of it hit his tongue flickered through his mind, and he grimaced.

"Do me a favor and never let Zelda hear you say that. She'll find some embarrassing way to prove you wrong, and I have my hands full with her as it is."

Sidon nodded with a chuckle as though he understood. Then again, he had seen them bickering like children when they'd drawn near Vah Ruta and Zelda had tried to get him to let her enter the beast alone. The argument had concluded with her pushing him into the lake.

The two males remained side by side for a while after that, though no more words were shared between them. Sidon, the new Zora Champion, clutched his sister's trident in both hands and stared up at the statue of his sister as though asking her for guidance. He was going to do well, Link thought. He had a feeling that if the old Champions had been around still, they'd have given him their stamp of approval as well.

Link turned away from Sidon to glance up at Mipha. He may not remember everything that he ought to about her, but he remembered enough that missing her left an aching in his chest. He was grateful beyond words that he'd found a new friend in her brother Sidon. He remembered the promise she had made to him once; that no matter how badly he got injured, she would heal him. Link couldn't do the same for Sidon, but at the very least, Link could look after him from afar. Take care of him like his sister would were she still around. Maybe then the hole in his chest would finally begin to heal.

Perhaps it was a trick of the lighting, but it seemed to Link that Mipha's smile seemed fonder than it usually did. For a wild moment, he almost thought he could hear her voice, telling him it was ok, that she wasn't upset that he'd forgotten her, that she was grateful he had befriended Sidon. She would always be his friend, and he would always be hers. Nothing, not even death or amnesia, could change that.

Link smiled, feeling a little emotional once again. He missed his old friends dearly, but... he had new friends now. And maybe one day, he and Zelda would develop bonds of friendship between themselves and Sidon as strong as the ones had been between themselves and Mipha. And not just Sidon, either, but the other Champions too. Who could say. They had their whole future ahead of them. He couldn't wait to see what came next.

And one day, when he saw Mipha again, he would tell her all about it.


	6. Tarrey Town

Link was behaving strangely.

That in and of itself wasn’t particularly noteworthy; to be frank, Link had changed a great deal in the time that had lapsed since the Calamity had torn them apart, so ‘strange’ might as well be the new normal for him. Every day it seemed as though Zelda was discovering new, interesting things about her appointed knight. It helped that he was talking more, laughing and joking with her, occasionally arguing, keeping to his promise that he’d use her name when the two of them were alone together. She honestly felt as though her old dream of the two of them becoming close friends was finally coming to fruition, and as they spent more and more time interacting together, discussing the future or instructing her on how to cook or fight (he’d actually continued on with his lessons, to her utter shock, though he’d decided to limit it to basic sword fighting for the time being), she could feel that little golden kernel of emotion that had bloomed when her powers had awakened, the one that she’d firmly buried to focus on her duty to her country and her people, was slowly beginning to push itself back to the surface.

_No… Don’t think about that… Don’t let it distract you… Don’t give Impa the satisfaction…_

Things had been progressing normally after leaving Zora’s Domain, fresh with new political ties to King Dorephan and his advisors and promises of aid in the restoration of both Hyrule and the nation’s capital, the city that currently lay in ruins around the castle. Truth be told, Zelda had little to no desire to ever step foot in that castle again, but she knew she would have to one day once it was restored, and it was the place she had lived with her father, after all. But those were thoughts that could wait for another day. After Hyrule was set back on its feet. After her people’s livelihoods were restored.

Zelda had big dreams for Castle Town once it was finally rebuilt. In the past, it had been a bustling center of trade, a place where all races were welcome, but it had still mainly been home to Hylians. Once it was finally restored, however, she hoped to make it a place where members of all races could come and live without feeling like strangers. There were problems that would have to be addressed, of course; the Zora needed fresh water, the Rito preferred high altitudes, the Goron required a steady supply of minerals for their diets, and the Gerudo disliked living in close proximity to men, etc., but Zelda still had hope that she could make her dream a reality and that her people could be more unified than ever.

She had confessed this secret dream of hers to Link while the two had been discussing reconstruction efforts the day after leaving Zora’s Domain, the duo on their way towards the Akkala region where her old friend Robbie lived to pay him a visit before continuing on to Goron City. When Link heard her dream, he had grinned at her and asked if she did mind making a small detour on the way to Robbie’s.

And that was how she wound up in Tarrey Town.

She had been awestruck when she first arrived in the tiny settlement. True, the little village had nothing on the size or grandeur of Zora’s Domain or Gerudo Town or any of the older Hylian settlements in the days before the Calamity, but it was also the only new, growing settlement Zelda had seen since leaving the castle.

They had passed the stark, moldering ruins of the Akkala Citadel along their journey and Zelda’s spirit had been weighed down with the fresh weight of all that Hyrule had lost, all the brave men and women who had died inside that fort, but everything about this quaint little town felt thriving and alive; there was a joy in the air, the feel of new beginnings and boundless possibilities that shone in the smiles of every person who lived there. For the first time, Zelda really felt like the Calamity had ended. Her people were already beginning to move on.

What was even more incredible: though the town was small, there were members living here from every race. Gorons and Zora, Gerudo and Rito, Hylians… Well, there were no Sheikah, and of course no Koroks took up residence outside of the forest, but still. It was incredible, and it made her heart soar at the realization that her dream might not be quite as far off as she had thought.

It was right around then that Link’s bizarre behavior had begun.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true; he’d snuck away from her a bit at the South Akkala Stable to hold a secretive conversation with an odd fellow with an enormous backpack named Beedle. Though Zelda had tried to give him some space, she could help but notice a surprising amount of rupees changing hands, and the man had departed not long after with a greedy grin plastered across his face. When Zelda had inquired the next day, Link had brushed her off with tales of supplies purchased and arrows restocked, though Zelda had noticed nothing of the sort at the time.

She had forgotten all about this once they arrived in Tarrey Town; the uniqueness of the settlement aside, it was her first time revealing herself as the princess to anyone who hadn’t already known her (well… there were Zoras who hadn’t known her, but the king and most of the advisors had), and she was unsure how they would react, especially her fellow Hylians.

As it turned out, most people in this day and age had no idea what being royalty meant. They knew of Zelda, the princess who held back the Calamity, only from stories and legends- she was a hero, a fairytale come to life, much like Link whom they welcomed with warm smiles and open arms. They never doubted her claim, not so long as Link was there to support it, but they also didn’t seem to fully grasp what that meant. There was no bowing, no subservience, no decorum, no alteration in speech or mannerisms. For all intents and purposes, Zelda might as well have been any other woman. And she loved it.

She knew deep down that there was a reason why kings and queens and lords had demanded respect from their people; it was harder to lead when no one showed you respect. But she also knew that one didn’t need to lord themselves over others to obtain that respect. Link was a prime example of this; though a royal knight, a Champion of Hyrule, the oldest male heir to an honored family line who served the throne for generations and of higher birth than any ‘mere commoner’, he commanded respect through example and presence alone. People listened and followed him because they wanted to, not because they were raised to believe they had to, or because they would be punished if they did not.

Though perhaps naïve, there was a large part of her that hoped to one day be that same sort of leader, the kind that, when they visited a town like Tarrey, the common folk greeted them with warm, open hearts rather than suspicion and fear. It was a happy thought. One she dared to hope might just become a reality, as long as she had Link.

The townsfolk themselves were a riot of vibrant, peculiar personalities. Their leader and founder, Hudson, she soon learned was an ex-employee of Bolson Construction, led by Bolson, the eccentric construction worker she’d met in Hateno. He was a friendly if somewhat laconic man who was married to a tall, beautiful Gerudo seamstress. Zelda had spent a good deal of her first night in Tarrey Town talking with Rhondson, sharing stories and discussing how Gerudo Town had changed over the last century. She liked the older woman very much, and had graciously accepted a gift of traditional Gerudo clothing from her that she vowed to never wear in front of Link lest she die of embarrassment.

Then there was the Rito salesman, Fyson, and the two Goron brothers, Greyson and Pelison. Fyson had given her a long sales pitch about opening up a shop in Castle Town once it was restored, and the brothers had offered to help with reconstruction. She promised to send word once the Sheikah had settled on a plan for rebuilding, and in thanks, Pelison had given her a colored stone he’d found ‘because she was pretty, just like it was.’

She had smiled for the rest of the day. He had no idea who she was, or what the title of ‘princess’ entailed, or that at one time her family’s vaults had contained a wealth of precious stones that he probably couldn’t even begin to fathom the depth of. And yet, he’d given her a rock that he had valued, not because of who she was, but because she was ‘pretty’.

When Link had asked later why she was grinning like a cat, she had merely shrugged and looked away. Some things didn’t need explanations.

She had also met another child on that first day in Tarrey Town; a young girl by the name of Hunnie, who had been enamored by the discovery that Zelda was a princess, but not for the reasons Zelda had anticipated.

“You’re a princess?!” The little girl had exclaimed, her eyes growing wide as saucers. “Whoa… No way… I bet you eat cake all the time!”

“Oh.” Zelda had replied, taken aback. “Well… Yes, I suppose I did get the chance to eat desert rather frequently in the castle-”

“Do you have any cake right now?! Can I have some?!”

When Zelda told her that she did not, in fact, have any cake on her person, she became far less interested in anything that Zelda had to say.

“People here only eat cake at parties and weddings and stuff. Like when Hudson and that tall lady got married. How come nobody gets married right now?!”

Zelda had merely shrugged, at a loss for words. What was there to be said? The girl was truly passionate about her pastries.

Link had tagged along in her shadow all throughout that first day, just as he usually did, but on the morning of the second day, when she thought they’d be preparing to leave so they could continue their journey to see Robbie, Link gave her some surprising news.

“I’ve got to head out for a bit.” He told her quietly as the duo sat eating their breakfast inside old Kapson’s inn. “I’ll be gone for a few hours, but I should be back sometime around noon. Do you think I can leave you alone for that long without you causing any trouble?”

She swatted him on the leg, grateful that Kapson was out, otherwise Link would be back to his normal stoic bodyguard persona.

“If anyone’s the trouble-maker here, it’s you.” She huffed, ignoring the way he chortled over his poached eggs. He was in a strangely good mood this morning… “Where are you going? Does this have something to do with that letter you received earlier?”

“Yes it does.” He said with a smug grin, munching on a piece of bacon. He was such a messy eater. He was getting crumbs everywhere. “I have to go pick something up. It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?” She replied, blinking. She’d expected it to be another one of those routine monster slaughtering things that he did sometimes. “For me?”

He nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason to do something nice for my princess?”

The grin he sent her was teasing, but the look in his eyes made her insides flip-flop in a distracting manner. Turning away before her mutinous thoughts could take her down roads she ought not to travel, she busied herself with spearing her eggs on the end of her fork.

“Fine. But do not be gone for too long. I had hoped to get to Robbie’s lab by nightfall.”

“As Her Highness commands.”

He left soon after, but she found it was surprisingly easy to distract herself from both the strangeness of his absence and wondering over what his ‘surprise’ might be. The town was in a bizarre sort of uproar that morning, with people rushing around clearing the area in front of the fountain that housed the Goddess statue, preparing food, setting up poles with streamers. Something was going on. Was there a festival? Or a holiday of some sort that she didn’t know of? Rhondson and the others seemed too busy to speak with her, and when she finally did stoop down to ask a kindly looking old woman what all the fuss was about, she responded with a cheeky grin and an enthusiastic, “Oh, as if you didn’t know!”

Only… well, she didn’t know. Maybe this had something to do with her? Perhaps they knew she and Link would be leaving in a few hours, and they wanted to send off their princess in the proper fashion? Zelda had no idea, but she also knew that the townsfolk had no idea how to ‘properly’ treat a princess either, so perhaps they were just making this up as they went along.

At a loss for what to do while she waited for Link, she spent the day sitting on a bench overlooking the lake, playing with a stray dog. The breeze that passed was chilly, but the sun was warm and strong overhead, and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. She could see why Hudson had wanted to build a town here, for all that the foundation seemed rather precarious.

Around noon, she began growing impatient. Link wasn’t back yet, and the goings-on behind her had grown considerably. A large crowd had formed around the fountain with decorations hanging everywhere. Someone was scattering flower petals across the grass. Whatever was happening, it looked grandiose.

Standing from the bench, she decided to give asking around another shot. Surely somebody would explain this all to her. It can’t be a secret, not with it being out in the open like this.

The first person she recognized in the crowd was Kapson, the elderly Zora who was standing by the fountain, reading over something in an old leather book as though he were rehearsing.

“Oh, princess!” he exclaimed as she drew close. “Right on time! *cough cough* Go ahead and wait right there. We should be ready to begin momentarily, just as soon as Link returns.”

Before she could ask what they would be ready for, the old man vanished in the crowd.

Great. Now what? Feeling rather awkward, she found herself turning around, casting desperate looks through the crowd of strangers, trying to capture a glimpse of Rhondson under the hopes that she’d clarify some of this for her.

As though in answer to a prayer, a familiar figure came hurrying towards her through the throng, an eager, almost childlike grin on his face.

“Princess! There you are!”

“Link!” She couldn’t help the relieved smile that passed across her face. “Where have you been?”

“Procuring something. I went through a lot of trouble to get this brought over here so quickly. I can’t wait ‘til you see it. It’s right over… what’s going on?”

He frowned, taking in the crowd and the flower petals as though he only just realized they were there. He’d finally noticed the festivities, it would seem.

“I don’t know.” She confessed, offering up weak smile. “Kapson merely asked that I wait here until they were prepared. He said we were waiting on you or… well, something of that nature. Shouldn’t you know what’s going on?”

“Me?” Link asked, twisting around, trying to peer over the heads of the crowd. “How should I know? I’ve been gone for most of the day. Do you think it has something to do with you being royalty?”

“Oh…” So his disappearance wasn’t involved. Or… maybe it still was and he was playing coy? Hmm…

Before she had time to think about it any farther, Kapson appeared, shuffling forward on his aging Zora limbs to take his position near the front of the fountain, directly in front of Link and Zelda.

A hush fell over the crowd, so sudden that is about had her leaping out of her skin. Zelda fought off the urge to look around, focusing all of her attention on looking poised and regal, just like she’d been taught in her youth. She still had no idea what was going on, but even though she felt distinctly uncomfortable, she trusted that the people of Tarrey Town at least meant well. She would just have to see what it was that they had in store.

At her side, Link drew his sword and stood with the tip of the blade in the ground, just like he always did when he was standing watch over her. He’d moved back a couple of steps in order to let Zelda take the spotlight, but at a gesture from Kapson, he hesitantly moved forward to stand beside her.

Raising his hand, Kapson began to speak.

“Silence, everyone. *cough* Silence, please… We shall now begin.”

Zelda found herself taking a slow, deep breath. So, this was a ceremony of some sort… She hoped they didn’t expect her to give a speech. Certainly, she’d been trained in her youth in the art of public speaking, and she was sure she could come up with something heartfelt and inspiring if asked, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being put on the spot without any notice. A heavy frown had appeared on Link’s face, and he was shooting Kapson a shrewd, questioning look. What was that about?

“Friends, neighbors… Be welcomed. We are gathered here on this joyous today to join the Champion Link and our Princess Zelda together in holy matrimony.”

Zelda blinked. Then blinked again.

What… had he just said…?

“Princess Zelda.” Kapson intoned, turning to her first, apparently oblivious to the look of abject horror slowly dawning on her face. “Before the eyes of these witnesses, and before those of the Goddess Hylia, do you take Link to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, and…”

Here he paused for dramatic effect.

“…do you also vow to name your children in accordance with the Bolson Company naming guidelines?”

Zelda could only gape, flabbergasted, her mouth held open in a long, silent scream. She was stunned, too stunned to speak, the words she wanted to say somehow colliding with one another and tangling up in her throat.

What in the world…? She was getting married?! Right now?! Who…? What…? Was… was this the surprise Link had been talking about?! No, surely not… He wouldn’t… That is, he couldn’t…

Hold on, why did Kapson start with her? Wasn’t the man supposed to go first? Why did she even care about that right now? Wait, _Bolson Company naming guidelines?!_ What sort of twisted wedding ceremony was this?!

“She’s speechless with joy.” Kapson chuckled amicably, and the crowd let out a warm ‘aww!’ that left Zelda choking on her own tongue.

“Link,” Kapson continued, offering a hand to the man on her left. Zelda jerked her head to the side, her eyes bulging in panic. This was not happening. This was NOT happening! How on earth was this happening?!

“Before the eyes of these witnesses, and before those of the Goddess Hylia…”

For Link’s part, his expression was stony though he seemed more composed than Zelda was, other than the fact that his left eye was twitching. He clearly knew nothing about this either. That was some relief, she supposed…

Wait, no it wasn’t!

“Do you take Princess Zelda to be your wife, to have and to hold, in good times and in-“

“No.”

His tone was flat and unamused, sprinkled with just the tiniest bit of anger. A scandalized gasp echoed throughout the crowd and a rash of whispered conversations broke out all around them.

Kapson looked positively floored.

“What-? I… Link… *cough cough* I understand how nervous you must be, but this is no time to be getting cold fins-!”

“I’m not-!” He started off angrily before snapping his jaws shut and taking in a deep breath through his nostrils. His hands were shaking on the pommel of his sword.

“Kapson,” he continued again, this time a little softer, “what, by the gods, made you think it was ok to perform a wedding ceremony for the princess of Hyrule without obtaining either of our consent?”

Kapson gaped.

“I… I… M-Master Link, I can assure you, I…”

He broke off in another coughing fit, one that left him looking rather ragged and pale. All around them, the whispered conversations were growing louder.

“Link,” Zelda tried to break in gently; her face was flaming with embarrassment, but she didn’t want to browbeat the old man for his senile lapse in judgment. At least… not in front of the whole town. It was probably best for them to settle this somewhere private. Link, however, wasn’t listening.

“Honestly, man! What made you think we were here to get married? What made you think I would ever be ok with marrying _her_?!”

Zelda couldn’t ignore the painful way her stomach dipped at the absolute conviction in his tone. She tried to ignore it, tried to remind herself that that isn’t what she ought to be focusing on, and that what Link was saying right now was fueled more by irritation and a desire to protect her image than anything else, but she was surprised by exactly how much his words stung. She clearly hadn’t buried that kernel deeply enough.

Her attempts to mentally shake off the unexpected stab of pain must not have worked, because a moment after the words slipped out of his mouth, Link cast a glance in her direction and suddenly began floundering.

“I… I mean to say… N-not that anything is wrong with the Princess! A-as a person or a woman, I mean. She is… spectacular. I would be honored- any man would be honored- to have a wife half as intelligent and kind and beautiful as she is. I simply meant… that is to say, a woman of her stature should not debase herself so as to wed someone as crude and lowborn as I…”

He was rambling. She couldn’t believe it; Link was actually rambling. He never did that. Ever. Actually… he was blushing as well. Could it be… Link was embarrassed?!

This moment right here was almost worth the sheer mortification of being married off against her will in front of a bunch of strangers.

Almost.

Link’s speech died down to an almost incoherent babble, and he slowly turned to back to glance at Zelda, his red face set in a permanent wince as though preparing for the worst.

She had to stop herself from smiling, though it was tremendously difficult. She didn’t want Link to think she was making fun of him; otherwise, he’d be even more on guard in the future and she’d never get to see him flustered again! Besides, embarrassing as this situation was, it wasn’t entirely horrible. She’d been able to see a side of Link she’d never seen before, and… well… he’d called her beautiful.

With a gentle nudge, she nodded in Kapson’s direction as though to remind Link of who he was talking to. His eyes went wide and he straightened up, facing the elderly Zora once again with renewed determination and a much stiffer pose than he’d had before.

“Highness…” Kapson wheezed desperately, wiping at his forehead with a nervous hand. “Please… You must forgive me… I… Clearly, there’s been a misunderstanding…”

“It’s alright, Kapson.” She murmured gently, suddenly worried about the older man’s constitution. “Though I must ask… Why did you think to put on a wedding ceremony out of the blue like this?”

Kapson coughed into his hand as he visibly wracked his brains for something to say.

“I… well, I was told that the two of you were engaged to be wed and had journeyed here to seek out my services, and I… well, I confess, I was so excited, and when I heard that Master Link had gone to fetch you a gift, I assumed it was for your wedding, and… Oh, I have been a very large fool…”

“Who told you we were engaged?” Link asked tersely.

Kapson pointed silently into the crowd. Everyone turned to look in the direction he was pointing.

Hudson’s face had gone pale.

“I, uh… It… It wasn’t me!” He blathered anxiously while Rhondson buried her face in her hands in mortification. “I… I heard that from Fyson!”

“Whoa, hey!” A lanky Rito squawked from the other side of the crowd. “Not cool, man! And I heard that from Pelison!”

“Yeah!” the young Goron shouted excitedly, only to blink in surprise as all attention was turned to him. “Oh. I mean… I heard it from my bro!”

“Yup.” Greyson replied at Pelison’s side. “And I heard it from Bolson.”

Bolson?

“Okey-doo~!” Came a familiar voice from behind, and a moment later the crowd parted, revealing the friendly construction workers Bolson and Karson who had helped her and Purah break into Link’s house back in Hateno.

Zelda couldn’t help but stare. Where had they come from?!

“You found me! Oh, Zelly, darling, you look simply beautiful!”

Zelda blinked and looked down. She was wearing the same clothing she always did.

“And Link, you handsome stud. Why didn’t you invite me to your wedding, hmm? I’m hurt. Poor Karson was heartbroken.”

To demonstrate his boss’s words, Karson hung his head as though overcome with sorrow.

“I didn’t tell you,” Link growled between clenched teeth, “because I’m not getting married!”

“Well shoot.” Bolson exclaimed, hands on his hips. “So you’re telling me I went through all the effort of setting up this nice wedding for nothing?!”

Link looked like he was about to explode.

“It was you?! You…! You…! You can’t just marry off the princess to whomever you please! She’s the princess!”

“I know!” Bolson retorted, throwing his hands in the air. “It was going to be spectacular, a wedding for the ages, and completely in compliance with the Bolson Company naming guidelines! Can you image it?! A royal line with names that end in -son?! Magnificent!”

From the stupefied look on Link’s face, something had malfunctioned in his brain.

“But… But… Our names don’t end in -son.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“He’s right, boss.” Karson spoke up, placing a bracing hand on the older man’s shoulder. “It don’t make much sense, when you think on it.”

Bolson was quiet for a moment, clearly wracking his brains for a plausible response.

“Hmm… well… I suppose…”

A vein in Link’s forehead was throbbing. Bolson was rubbing his temples. Everyone in the crowd looked so crestfallen.

“Well…” Zelda spoke up, suddenly drawing everyone’s attention. “My father’s last name was Bosphoramus… but my mother’s maiden name was Nohansen.”

The crowd let out a dramatic gasp. Bolson’s head lifted up, his eyes sparkling with newfound hope and emotion.

“That isn’t spelled the same way.” Link cut in, deadpan.

“Oh…” He was right. Why had she said that anyway? She shrugged apologetically at Bolson, who let his shoulders slump in defeat.

“All of my dreams… crushed…”

The crowd seemed to be mourning alongside Bolson, but Link was staring around at them all like they’d grown extra heads. He, it seemed, was still absolutely livid that the town had just tried to marry him off.

For Zelda’s part, however, she was strangely ok. At least now that she knew it was over. She couldn’t say why, exactly, she just… was.

She was also only just now realizing that she hadn’t told Bolson and Karson about who she really was the last time she saw them in Hateno, and even though he’d apparently just tried to plan her wedding without her consent, a part of her was worried that she was about to lose two of the first friends she’d made now that they knew she was a princess.

As though reading her thoughts, Bolson met her eyes.

“Y’know, Link, you seem to be awfully vocal about not liking this whole set up, but I’m not hearing a whole lot of complaining from Zelly. Maybe you two should talk this over and we can give it another go?” He flashed her a conspiratorial wink.

Zelda opened her mouth to respond… then closed it. He was just teasing them now; there wasn’t any sense in letting him rile her up like he had Link. In any event, she was suddenly more grateful than ever that her people had forgotten the ‘proper’ way to treat with royalty. If Bolson had begun speaking to her formally she might have actually lost it.

Link’s brain seemed to be functioning again. Hefting his sword, he began stalking towards Bolson with a homicidal glint in his eye.

“Oh my~!” Bolson exclaimed, though his voice had lost a good deal of its usual unctuousness. “Link, hold on now just a tick. I admit, it was me who went and planned this whole shindig, but I’m not the one who started the rumor about you two being engaged! Cross my heart!”

“Then who did?” He grated, his patience finally at an end.

“Why, only my number-one source of information!” Bolson replied, planting one hand firmly on his hip and pointing into the crowd with his second.

As one, everyone turned.

The crowd parted, leaving one innocent little girl standing alone by the fountain.

“Hunnie?”

The girl, who for one moment was all childlike innocence and charm, suddenly broke into a monstrous scowl.

“Ok, fine! It was me! I did it!” She shouted, stomping her foot and glaring around at the crowd as though daring them to cross her. “I’m the one who told everybody that these two weirdos were getting married!”

“Oh, Hunnie!” A nearby woman exclaimed, dropping to her knees as the young girl’s side, looking distraught. “Hunnie, you can’t go around making up rumors about people, it’s rude! Especially about the princess! What would possess you to go around telling people these two were getting married?!”

The girl glowered at her mother for a moment as though considering giving the woman a piece of her mind before backing down with a huff, crossing her arms and looking away.

“I just wanted some cake…” She mumbled petulantly.

An awkward silence filled the area.

Slowly, Link turned his attention back to Bolson and Karson. He gestured wordlessly at Hunnie as though to say, ‘THAT was your source? Seriously?’

Bolson flashed the man a sheepish smile, then all at once snapped to attention.

“Karson!” he barked.

“Yeah, boss?!”

“…Run!”

Together, the two eccentric carpenters ran screaming for their lives, one very irate Hero of Hyrule chasing after them, sacred blade in hand.

After a moment, a very uncomfortable crowd began to disperse.

Zelda was left alone in the clearing with nothing but the sound of the bubbling fountain to comfort her. In the distance, she thought she saw Bolson tripping Karson in order to distract Link while he escaped.

She shook her head with a rueful smile. Hopefully, Link wouldn’t hurt them too bad. She’d like them to come back to the town before they left so they could talk some more. Maybe she could convince them to join the efforts to rebuild Castle Town... At least then she’d see them more often.

A familiar cough had her turning her head.

“Oh, Kapson! Forgive me, I hadn’t realized you were still here!”

“Your Highness…” Kapson intoned, looking grave. “Please… allow me to extend my apologies once more… I am getting old, and have little time remaining, and I confess… I hadn’t thought to question the rumor of your engagement because I had hoped to have the honor of performing your wedding myself. It would have been the highlight of my life. Instead, I have embarrassed you and shamed myself deeply. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this senile old fish…”

Zelda let out a soft sigh.

“Kapson…”

After a moment, she extended an arm and looped it through his, guiding him back towards the inn.

“Kapson, I could not possibly get married here and now, even if Link and I were engaged. It would be insulting to the leaders of the various races if I did not at least extend to them an invitation. Can you imagine how King Dorephan and Prince Sidon would feel if I did not think to include them?”

“His Majesty would be crushed.” Kapson agreed emphatically. “He was ever very fond of you and your father. And of course, with the prospect of unifying and rebuilding our great nation on your shoulders, such a great opportunity to foster bonds of friendship across our races must not be overlooked. I had not even spared that a thought. You are wise, Highness. Forgive me for being a doddering old fool.”

“I will not forgive you,” Zelda replied gently as the duo neared the inn, “because there is no need for forgiveness. You have a large heart, Kapson, and a desire to spread happiness to those around you. I find that to be very admirable indeed. I hope that, on the day when I am married, you would do me the honor of officiating at the ceremony? It would mean a great deal to me.”

Kapson nearly tripped over himself in his haste to accept and thank her for her offer. The smile Zelda held on her face as they completed their journey to the inn was soft and warm. She really did hope that Kapson could perform her wedding ceremony, whenever it was that she did finally wed.

And it was ‘when’. Because she did plan to one day wed. She just didn’t know who she would marry; when she was young, she had always assumed her father would choose her suitor for her out of a list of potentials, determined by which one had the most to offer their kingdom. Now, there were no more lords, no foreign kingdoms in contact with her own, no rules to govern her life or her future. She would have to rebuild them as she went, but for now, she supposed she was free to marry whomever she would. Not marrying was not an option, because she had a duty to carry on the bloodline of the Goddess, but to be honest, even the thought of not marrying didn’t settle well with her. She wanted to marry… one day… But who? Now that the choice was hers, the prospect of marriage seemed a great deal more daunting.

A question from Impa floated unbidden to her mind. What were Link’s plans in the future? Did he ever plan on marrying? On settling down? On starting a family of his own? The little kernel of emotion within her throbbed as she remembered standing beside him as Kapson read their vows. She shoved the kernel back down with no little venom. She couldn’t allow herself to think of that, to let her hopes rise. He deserved better than a life bound to her. All she had ever done was cause him pain, and in any event, he had never even looked at her in that way. Best not to think about it.  

If there was one thing she knew, however, it was that she wanted her new friends there. King Dorephan and Prince Sidon were obvious attendees, as were the leaders of the other races and old friends like Purah, but she absolutely refused to marry if Bolson and Karson and Hudson and Rhondson couldn’t be there. The whole town could come if they wanted. Even little Hunnie, so she could eat her fill of cake. She wanted them all there. Not for the Princess of Hyrule, but for her. For Zelda.

As they neared the inn, something caught her eye. There, tethered to the hitch beside Epona and the packhorse the Sheikah had given them for Zelda to ride (though Link had been the one riding it, having insisted that Zelda ride on Epona), stood a beautiful white horse. A very familiar white horse… with a very familiar bridle…

Zelda had abandoned Kapson without even realizing it, rushing forward to the animal’s side, her heart in her throat. Was it…? Could it be…?! There was no way…

The animal whickered as she neared it, but quieted down as she began stroking its mane. No… No, this… this wasn’t her horse. She was a fool for thinking it could be; her beloved animal had been dead for over a century. Or so she had assumed…

This one, however, looked almost exactly like him. So much so that it was eerie. Together with the saddle and bridle, he could’ve been her horse’s twin. Could it… could it be that her horse had survived the Calamity? That it had wandered the wilderness alone and reproduced? That the horse there before her was the descendent of the one she’d loved so well, her gift from her beloved father?

Off to the side, she didn’t notice Kapson finally reaching the inn, or the man with the overly-large backpack who stood leaning by the wall, watching her with curious eyes.

“Beedle!” Kapson declared, a little winded. “My goodness… *cough cough* I haven’t seen you in quite some time. What brings you here?”

“Oh, Kapson!” Beedle replied excitedly. “This must be fate! Oh. An acquaintance asked me to bring a horse he had left at the Woodland Stable, so here I am.”

“Doing deliveries now, eh?” Kapson laughed.

“No, not really. But he’s a loyal customer, and he paid well, so…”

“Anything for the money?”

Beedle grinned.

“Well, if you’re looking to stay the night, I can set you up with a room…”

“Sure! Oh, but… I heard that there was a wedding going on today. Sounds like a good time to peddle my wares. When does it start?”

Kapson turned to glance discretely at the princess. She didn’t seem to notice that he and Beedle were there, but he didn’t miss the look of wonder in her tear-filled eyes moments before she buried her face against the animal’s neck.

“Not yet.” He replied softly, turning to enter the building. “But maybe sooner than we think.”


	7. Memory

The princess had come up with a game of sorts in order to fill the long hours otherwise filled with unprofitable boredom as the duo made their way traveling across the vast, open stretches of Hyrule.

Perhaps ‘game’ wasn’t the best word; ‘pastime’ perhaps, or maybe ‘hobby’. Whatever it was, in the odd hours of the day as their horses trotted down uneven paths, as they packed their camp under the gentle rays of the rising sun, or as they sat around the campfire in the evenings listening to choirs of cicadas, Zelda would inevitably return to her ‘game’ without fail and often without preamble, and Link would begrudgingly play along. Even if, more often than not, the game never really got them anywhere.

“How about the first time you went fishing?”

This was her game: she would ask him questions about his early life, usually from before he became her knight, and he would see if he could dredge up any memories.

Almost always, the answer was no. His life before awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection was like a book whose pages had been indiscriminately torn from their binding with no rhyme or reason. Random things, random moments, remained fully intact, while others were great, hollow expanses of nothing within his psyche. The further back he looked, the less he remembered. His childhood was completely lost.

His memory loss didn’t upset Link too terribly much; it could be frustrating, sure, but his life now was in the present, his duty was to Zelda and to Hyrule, exclusively in the here and now. He didn’t need memories to serve either one, and he didn’t have time to waste stewing over it. There was no sense to be found in lamenting over things he could never get back. Besides, how could he be expected to feel sorrow over having lost something he never even knew he had?

He’d tried explaining this to Zelda in their early days together, back when she had first begun questioning just how much memory he’d been able to restore, but she’d been heavily dissatisfied with his answer. She seemed personally affronted by his viewpoint, saddened almost, and had decided upon her game as a means of scientific inquiry in to the matter. A test to see if she could spark a recall and help him regain what he had lost.

He suspected that her sudden, avid determination to help him recover his memory stemmed from personal guilt. She blamed herself for his memory loss. Debating with her, he knew, wouldn’t change her mind. He decided then that the best he could do was play along. If it made her feel better, then he’d put up with any number of spur-of-the-moment interrogations, even if they did occasionally make him feel awkward when he couldn’t answer simple things like ‘where he’d grown up’ or ‘if he’d ever owned any pets other than horses.’

The vast majority of the time, his answers to her questions were always the same.

“I don’t remember, Princess.”

Though she would ‘tsk’ occasionally in frustration, she never tired of asking, and he never tired of listening for all that it rarely did any good. It was important, he felt, for her to feel like she was doing something, and… well, he liked the sound of her voice. It reminded him of better days, before the Calamity, when she would talk for hours on end about her theories and research and he would quietly sit back and listen. Often, while she was invested in her game, he would allow himself to pretend, just for a moment, that things were still as they used to be and that the Calamity had never happened…

Sometimes, however, by luck or chance or divine miracle, when she asked a question, he would open his mouth to tell her he didn’t know and would instead find an answer bubbling its way past his lips as though of its own volition.

“Who taught you to swim?” She’d asked one day as they set up camp beside a large pond. Link had been fishing for supper while Zelda scavenged the area for edible roots and snails.

“Mipha.” He had responded, not even realizing at first what he was saying. “When I first arrived in Zora’s Domain as a boy. Some of the other Zora children had teased me for being Hylian and pushed me in the river. The current carried me away. I would have drowned if not for her. That was how we first became friends.”

A heartbeat had passed before it dawned on him, and he jerked his head back to stare at Zelda in shock only to find her knee-deep in the pond, beaming at him with obvious joy and pride.

“You remembered something.” A statement, not a question. Her happiness almost seemed to make her glow.

“I remembered something.” Link agreed, feeling amazed and, for the first time, hopeful.

Maybe getting his memory back wasn’t impossible after all.

Zelda’s questions had grown in frequency after that, but Link still couldn’t find answers for the majority of them. She never became discouraged, however, and Link never asked her to stop. The game was more than a hopeless distraction now, more than a harmless way for his princess to pass the time. There was a goal. A reason for trying.

And every now and then, Zelda’s persistence was rewarded.

“My mother taught me how to ride,” he answered, a week or so after recovering his first memory, when she asked how he became so good with horses. His heart leaped into his throat as the fledgling memory trickled into his mind. “She… she had a horse… a huge, majestic creature. She called it ‘Dimitri’. I used to feed him apples.”

His mother… Her face, her name, her voice, all were still lost to him. But for some unfathomable reason, he remembered her horse.

“Malon.” He had answered later, flushing in sudden embarrassment at the unintended conviction in his voice when he said the girl’s name. But then, Zelda had asked who his first crush was. Perhaps it was normal that he’d have strong emotions attached to this memory. “She, uh… She was the daughter of a ranch owner who lived… um… somewhere near my family estate, I think. She was great with horses. Used to tease me all the time. She spent her days singing out in the fields, and sometimes I’d hear snatches of her voice when I was out roaming the land. She had the reddest hair…”

He’d tapered off after that, both because he couldn’t remember much else and because he felt oddly uncomfortable talking about his first crush with the woman he was sworn to serve. It wasn’t proper to disclose his romantic life to his princess, even if it was merely him moonstruck in his youth by a girl who had likely been dead for over a century.

Oddly, Zelda didn’t look overly pleased that he’d been able to answer this particular question. Her face had developed that pinched look she got sometimes when she was annoyed. Perhaps she was still sensitive about her own mediocre equestrian skills and didn’t like that Link had praised another girl for them. He didn’t press the issue, and she didn’t ask him any more questions that day.

He passed that afternoon pondering why he remembered so much about some random farm girl and his mother’s horse, but not important things like where he was born or what his father’s name was. Still, his little successes had emboldened him, and his gratitude for Zelda was too great to be expressed in words. The excitement of discovery was alive in his veins, and he could not wait until he remembered more about his parents. A family, something to call his own, someone he belonged to… he’d never thought about it before, but now that the prospect was in front of him, he couldn’t deny that in his heart he yearned for it. Even though they were gone, he still wanted to know them.

There were times when wondered why it was that the concept that his parents were long dead didn’t bother him. It certainly should have… or at least, he thought it should have. Wasn’t it normal for a person to grieve the loss of their parents?

To be fair, a century had passed… but then, Zelda still grieved for the loss of her father, and they both still felt the pains of losing the other Champions. Was the answer, then, that Link was simply cold-hearted? Or did he perhaps not have a positive relationship with his family after all? Was it possible that remembering his family would only bring back whatever negativity caused him to feel so emotionally distant? If that were the case, maybe it would be better to remain in the dark…

But… If remembering almost drowning, a horse, and a farm girl had made him so happy, so ecstatic to have reclaimed a portion of who he was, then how incredible would the moment be when he finally remembered his mother and father? It was worth the risk, he decided. He wouldn’t give up. Not that Zelda would let him anyway. Questions didn’t seem to be doing the trick, however, and if he were being honest he was starting feel a little impatient.

And if questions weren’t enough to unlock those memories, then what sort of effort was remembering going to take?

It was several days later when it happened.

They had stopped early in the afternoon to set up camp, intending to wake at sunrise the next morning in the hopes of crossing the bulk of the Eldin Province and reaching Goron City by nightfall. Link was washing the dishes from their supper in the river (he’d elected to let Zelda cook their meal, and for the first time the food had actually been palatable, so he’d been in a pretty good mood).

As he was working, Zelda had taken the crumbs from what remained of the stale bread she’d been given from Robbie’s wife and was scattering them around on the river bank, laughing in delight as birds began flocking down around her, eager for a meal.

It happened in that moment- the scattering of bread crumbs, the flocking of birds, the sunlight, the laughter, the smiling face of a blonde-haired girl…

The sound of shattering glass drew Zelda’s attention. Link was on his knees in the river, both arms pressed against his stomach as though he were ill. She could see blood dripping from one of his hands where the crushed remains of a stylized porcelain cup that Zelda had been gifted by Rhondson were clenched between his fingers.

“Link?” she called out, suddenly wary. He didn’t answer. His face had gone slack and he was staring into space, not seeing, not reacting. Her pulse began to rise.

“Link? Link!”

_Link?_

She ran to his side, falling to her knees in the muddy riverbank, not sparing a thought for the terrified birds she scattered in her wake. She pried his fingers gingerly apart, letting the blood-coated bits of glass tumble into the water. Link still hadn’t moved. His eyes were wide and glassy. He was crying.

That scared her more than anything. Link never cried. She’d never seen him cry. She’d often teased him for having a cliché, hyper-masculine persona behind that slender, androgynous face of his, but to be honest, she hadn’t thought him capable of it. That he sat here now, hunched over, unresponsive, obviously in pain while tears dripped down his cheeks... the implications sent icy waves of panic and confusion washing through her.

“Link… Link, speak to me. Say something. Link, what’s wrong?”

_Link? What’s the matter?_

“Link, talk to me!”

_Ugh, stop talking to me, Link. You’re so annoying._

“Come on, Link, it’s me! It’s Zelda! Tell me what’s happening so I can help!”

_Wow. I can’t believe they actually trust a goofball like you to watch the princess. What, did the kingdom run out of real knights?_

Zelda took his face in her hands, shaking him, calling out, but he didn’t answer. As far as he was concerned, she wasn’t there. His eyes didn’t see her. His ears were deaf to her pleading. Gone was their makeshift campsite, the trees and the grass and the muddy riverbank. In its place he saw cobblestones, a loud, boisterous crowd, roads lined with lively little shops. The late-afternoon sun glittered in the water of a fountain, not a river. And the blonde girl in front of him, laughing and dancing as she sprinkled bread crumbs for an ever-growing flock of birds…

“ _Look, Link, there’s so many!”_

_A few of the passers-by scowled at the obnoxious number of pigeons, but she paid them no mind, giggling contagiously as she tossed the last of her bread up into the air, making the birds go wild._

_Finally, she turned back to him with a regretful sigh, her pigtails dancing in the slight breeze._

_“Mom’s gonna be mad if we’re late for your celebration dinner. We should probably get going.”_

_Stepping forward, his little sister slid her hand into his own as she always did whenever they walked around town together. In all the crowds, it was easy to be separated, and they didn’t want to lose each other…_

Zelda’s full-arm slap caught Link hard across the face and sent him sprawling into the river. He floundered for a moment in the murk, dazed, confused, uncomprehending, until a moment later she hauled him back onto his knees.

“Link!” she shouted again, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he remembered where he was and what was going on. His hand stung for some reason, and he was now sopping wet, but he couldn’t focus on that right that second. His brain was currently split into two warring factions.

The first wanted to focus on Zelda, his princess, the person he was supposed to be taking care of. She was kneeling in front of him in the river, soaked up to her waist in the swiftly failing afternoon sunlight, her face pale with fear as her wide green eyes bore into his own, demanding answers. She was trembling…

No… No, she wasn’t trembling, he was. She had taken his forearms in her own to steady him, but he couldn’t stop shaking. The world around them was spinning in circles, and the other half of his mind, the half that wasn’t anchored firmly to her, was lost in a veritable maelstrom of sudden memories.

A sister. He had a little sister.

That… That should have been good news. A family member he’d never even suspected that he’d had. That he remembered, that he’d reclaimed a portion of his lost past, he ought to have been over the moon. He’d accomplished the thing he’d been hoping for now ever since Zelda had sparked that recollection of him learning how to swim… only he wasn’t swimming now, he was drowning. Drowning under the weight of some monstrous, unfathomable despair. Without realizing, he listed to the right and nearly fell into the river again, just about dragging Zelda with him.

It hurt. Goddess, the memory of her, it hurt! Why did it hurt?!

Her name was Aryll.

She had been thirteen when Link had drawn the Master Sword and been named both Champion and Princess Zelda’s personal bodyguard. He’d been living in the castle barracks with his father at the time. She was staying with their mother in town so that they could be close. He remembered that fleetingly; what the barracks were like, what their house in town was like, who his mother and father were, all of that was still lost to him. But Aryll… He could see her face in his head so clearly…

They’d had a fight when she was six and he was ten. He and his father were going on another visit to Zora’s Domain, but they were going without her. He couldn’t remember who had started it, but it ended when Link told her he hoped he got to stay in Zora’s Domain and never come back so he could pretend like he never had a little sister. She’d ran off crying, and their father had made him go after her to apologize. He hadn’t wanted to at first, but as the hours went by and he couldn’t find her he’d grown more and more worried that something had happened to her. There were monsters, and thieves, and wild animals… What if she got hurt? It would be all his fault! When he finally found her sobbing in a hayloft, he didn’t have the heart to be cross with her. He’d never felt so awful in his life.

Mipha had given him a bracelet to give to her for her eighth birthday, made of luminescent stone. It glowed in the dark, and she used to use it to stay up at night and read. He never saw her take it off, not once.

When she was twelve, their father let her come along with him and Link to hunt quail. He could still see her standing in the snow, cheeks rosy from the cold, eyes sparkling with pride as she held up her first catch for him to see. It was bigger than the one he’d managed to bag. She never let him live it down.

_“So I know you’re a big deal now, Mr. Champion,” she had said to him jokingly as the two made their way back home the day she’d been feeding the pigeons by the fountain; her hand was still in his, even though they’d long since escaped the crowds and she was a little too old to be lead around like a child, but they both knew it’d be awhile before they got the chance to be together again. She turned to look at him, one eye closed, her lips set in a grin that had seemed to him at the time just the teeniest bit forced, as though she were faking her joy for his benefit, “but you’re not going to forget your baby sister now that you’re famous, are you?”_

And he had. He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten everything about her. He’d forgotten she’d ever even existed.

And before Zelda had started pestering him, he hadn’t cared to remember.

It took him a while to realize that his face was buried in the crook of Zelda’s neck and that he was sobbing uncontrollably, his body wracked with violent shudders as his grief completely overwhelmed him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was highly improper, that his princess shouldn’t be holding him so familiarly, stroking his hair, rocking him like a parent would a fussy child as the two remained kneeling in the river, the sun fading away, the stars beginning to emerge. But at the same time, he didn’t care. How could he care? Hyrule was gone. It had died the day he’d failed to save it. Died the day the Castle fell. The day Zelda lost her father. The day Link lost his little sister.

Because she was in town that day. He knew it. He knew it with absolute certainty. That’s where she’d lived with his mother. That’s where she would have been when Calamity Ganon broke free. The castle had fallen in a heartbeat, and the town was razed to the ground mere moments later. While he and Zelda and the other Champions stood in the Lanayru Promenade, his little sister was dying. Had he known then? He couldn’t remember… he couldn’t remember what was going through his head…

That his mother and father presumably died alongside her registered in some distant part of his mind, but the sadness he felt for them was a grain of sand before the mountain that represented the loss of Aryll. He knew why that was, now. Why he’d felt detached from the loss of his parents before. It wasn’t because he was heartless, or because they’d had a bad relationship- It was because he couldn’t remember them. Them specifically, ‘them’ as individuals. They remained, even now in his mind, caricatures of people, mere social constructs, representations of the ‘idea’ of parents. They weren’t real. Not to him. Not yet.

But Aryll…  

He felt very much as though she’d just now been brought into his life only to be forcibly ripped away again before he could grab her and hold on. A hundred years may have passed since her death, but for Link, in that moment, she might as well have just been killed. And he was every bit as powerless to save her now as he had been back then.

A sudden ravenous need to tell Zelda erupted inside of him, clawing at his insides, tangling in his throat. Had she known? It seemed likely, but… she’d never mentioned it to him. Perhaps he’d never spoken to her of Aryll. Perhaps she’d simply never come up… Regardless, she had to know. She had to know about Aryll, about how the day she lost her family, he’d lost his too. One more thing they had in common. One more unique pain the two of them could share…

Also, she had to know about Aryll, because… because the thought of even the memory of her vanishing from the world filled Link with inexplicable anguish. Someone else had to know. Someone else had to remember her. Someone else had to understand…

But he couldn’t. Couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t force them into neat little sentences to tell the life story of his late little sister. He clung to Zelda’s body like a drowning man as the twilight faded to full evening. But he had to say something… had to find some way to vent this grief… had to make her understand… But he couldn’t. He couldn’t.

So instead of saying what he wanted to, he said what he could.

“She… She used to… feed the birds…”


	8. Goron City

In all of Link’s adventures, in all of his many travels, in all of his time as a knight, Champion, defender of the realm and personal bodyguard to the princess of Hyrule, Link could honestly say that he’d never found himself in a situation more desperate or terrifying than the one in which he found himself now.

The heat of Death Mountain was oppressive, wafting up from off the lava-scorched ground in undulating waves that distorted his vision. Steam assaulted him, smothering his face, his nose, his mouth, drawing beads of sweat from his every pore. Though the warmth of the hot spring was actually tremendously soothing against his joints and muscles, Link’s entire body remained rigid, his muscles stiff, his spine erect as he kept his gaze fixated firmly on their surroundings, scanning the perimeter again and again under the guise of keeping lookout for monsters or thieves, as if such things would dare draw so close to Goron City.

From somewhere nearby, the princess let out a soft sigh. The water rippled as she moved. Link swallowed thickly.

He was going to _kill_ Bludo.

Link and Zelda had arrived in Goron City after several days of hard travel. The path that lead up Hyrule’s famed mountain of death was steep and rocky, and they’d been forced to abandon their horses at the stable for their health. Armed only with what they could fit on their backs and several flasks of heat-resistant elixir, the duo had made the final push on foot, arriving in Goron City just as the night had fallen, and were received by the ever-charitable Goron people with open, boulder-crushing arms.

If the trip to Zora’s Domain had been rife with formality and stiff protocol, their diplomatic visit to Goron City had been anything but. No Goron alive remembered life before the Calamity, though their Elder, Bludo, had accepted Zelda’s claim to the throne without much hesitation, acknowledging that all leaders of their people had known to wait for the day their queen would return to them. The people had been gathered, announcements were made, and a feast had been thrown in her honor as well as in celebration of the end of the Calamity. Up to that moment, at least, everything seemed to be going smoothly.

Yunobo, the young great-grandson of Daruk, the late Goron Champion and friend of Link and Zelda, had been nervous about meeting the princess but had opened up before too long. He’d been awestruck when Link had presented him with his ancestor’s sword, Boulder Breaker, and nearly passed-out when Zelda asked that he take up the mantle of both Vah Rudania’s pilot and Champion of the Gorons. Bludo had had his reservations at first, but promised to make sure that the boy did his best until he grew into the role.

The next morning, talks had begun, and though Zelda had repeatedly reminded them that work had yet to officially begin on the restoration of the castle or Castle Town, numerous miners and stone masons had made offers to aid in the reconstruction, and Zelda had promised to send word as soon as the Sheikah had finished their assessment.

Things were going exactly according to plan. In fact, Link half-thought they’d be able to leave a little early. Not that he didn’t enjoy spending time with the Gorons, but the mountain was anything but hospitable to any creature not partially made of stone, and he was quite sick of heat-resistant elixirs as it was.

That was when Bludo had told them that, before they left, he insisted that they participate in Goron City’s time-honored tradition: all foreign diplomats must journey to the hot spring with the chief in order to bond and pay homage to the great mountain. Yunobo would be joining, because he was to be the new Champion. Link had no qualms with this initially; Bludo may be gruff, but Link knew he could trust the man, and together he and Yunobo would certainly treat Zelda well. That, and Link could scout the perimeter like he usually did when Zelda was bathing and keep away any nosy monsters who were foolish enough to butt in.

Unfortunately for him, when Bludo said ‘foreign diplomats’, that apparently included Link. He had tried backing out, but Bludo’s will was stronger than steel, and Link worried that to push any harder would risk offending the man and his people and weakening Zelda’s position in their eyes.

So there he was. In a hot spring. With Zelda.

She sighed again, long and exultant, clearly enjoying the warm water’s effects on her tired muscles. Link’s jaw was beginning to grow sore from how hard he was clenching it.

_Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it…_

It wasn’t until they had left for the hot springs that it occurred to Link that he hadn’t brought any clothes with him that he was comfortable getting wet in. His fireproof Goron armor would rust and weigh him down, though the hot springs would be difficult to drown in regardless considering how shallow they were, but other than that all he had was his Champion’s tunic. He decided to simply wear the pair of briefs he’d been clad in when awakening from the Shrine of Resurrection. He wasn’t uncomfortable wearing that in front of Zelda or the Gorons; she’d seen him in only that loads of times when she’d helped him to dress his wounds, as had several others. He was hardly a prude, after all.

He had not, however, spared a thought for what Zelda would be wearing. When she emerged from behind the boulder where she’d gone to change, Link had turned to greet her and nearly swallowed his tongue.

Her cheeks were bright red as she studiously avoided eye contact. She had on the top part of a traditional Gerudo outfit though the arm guards and veil were missing, the band of cloth secured tightly around her breasts, dyed a deep maroon that made her blush seem all the more pronounced. As for her bottom-half, she had on a long thin skirt, also maroon, with a floral print and a long slash that opened all the way to her hip, showing off one of her unbelievably pale legs.

He had no idea where she’d obtained it; it had to have come from Rhondson as well, though the white bikini-style bottom she was wearing underneath was reminiscent of what the villagers in Lurelin wore. Where she got that, he had no idea. Her feet were bare, and she was struggling to stand still, pain and discomfort obvious on her face.

“Ow… ow! Goddess, the ground is so hot!” she hissed, ignoring Link as she hurried forward towards the nearest pool of water, hopping from foot to foot, cursing when she stepped on a loose pebble.

Link said nothing. His mouth had gone completely dry. As she passed by, he couldn’t stop his eyes from dipping down, taking in the sight of her naked back for the first time in his life, the curve of her bare skin over her hip… For some incomprehensible reason, his heart was hammering rather loudly in his chest.

“Can we just… get in?” Zelda asked, drawing him briefly out of his stupor.

He didn’t understand her question at first. What, did she think she had to perform some sort of ritual?

“Well, I suppose Bludo and Yunobo will have to forgive me for not waiting…” She muttered to herself, answering Link’s unspoken question. “My feet are about to be seared off.”

And with that, she quickly removed the skirt, dropping it to the side, and stepped into the spring, submerging herself completely under the heated water.

For that brief moment before her body disappeared into the hot spring, Link felt his heart stop beating.

How… if they were roughly the same height… could her legs possibly be so long?

He stood stalk-still for a moment, his eyes wide, mentally replaying the image of her removing her skirt and stepping into the hot spring over and over and over until her head breached the surface for air and she turned to look at him expectantly.

“Well?” She asked, oblivious, pushing the water from her eyes, her long hair clinging soddenly to the sides of her face and neck, “Are you getting in, or are you going to stand there like a buffoon and let your feel melt?”

Which brought him to where he was now, sitting alone in a hot spring with the princess, waiting for Bludo and Yunobo to arrive as he quietly tried to quell his raging hormones.

Gods, what was this?! What was wrong with him?! He was behaving like a lecherous fool! It’s not like he’d never seen a woman in a state of undress before. He’d spent several days in and around Gerudo Town (crossdressing, of course) and had seen his fair share of nudity, and it had never affected him like it was now. Din, Zelda wasn’t even _naked_! Come on, Link, get ahold of yourself!

Thoughts of her at the stable on their first night back together flashed through his mind. The image appeared of her kneeling on the bed wearing only his shirt. His pulse was racing now just like it had been back then. Oh, Hylia above, this was bad…  

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to regain control of his thoughts. She’s still Zelda… She’s still the princess… She demands your respect, your loyalty… Nothing has changed… Well, that wasn’t technically true; he’d never seen her in this state of undress before. Normally, she kept most of her body covered up. Goddess, her skin is so pale… No! NO! Bad Link! Snap out of it! You’ve seen her legs, you’ve seen her arms, you’ve seen her shoulders, all while she was in that dress! This is nothing new! Though… you’ve never seen so much of her skin before… the curve of her hips, the roundness of her-

Without thinking, Link slammed his fist into the rocky ground, eliciting a pained hiss from his lips and all but wiping his thoughts clean of anything other than how he might have just broken his wrist.

“Link?!” Zelda asked, startled, and Link waved her off without looking at her.

“Sorry. Just… saw a bug…”

She snickered, but he paid her no mind. This was unbearable. All his life, he’d always had phenomenal self-control. He’d always known Zelda was beautiful, and he’d had to keep his eye out sometimes when they passed through villages to make sure no perverted ruffian thought they could get too close to her. With a sickening sense of shame, it occurred to him that, in that moment, _he_ was one of those perverted ruffians. All at once, he’d reverted to being a foul-minded teenager.

Well… technically he was still a teenager. Huh. How had that never once occurred to him? If he could drive himself off at sword point, he would.

…But sweet Farore, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

“What is the matter?”

Link flinched, then turned his head slowly in her direction, adamantly refusing to look directly at her. As it turned out, it didn’t matter; she’d submerged herself entirely beneath the steaming water, leaving only her head visible. Her cheeks were still bright red, though he assumed it was from the heat.

“What do you mean?” He replied, trying his best to appear nonchalant. His voice sounded oddly strained in his ears.

“You’re being awfully quiet, and you… you look so tense. Is something wrong?”

She cast a nervous glance at their perimeter where he’d been staring. Clearly, she thought he was worried about a monster attack or some such. He felt bad for worrying her without cause, but… well, it was better than her actually knowing what was going through his head.

“Nothing like that, Princess.”

“Zelda.”

“Zelda.” He conceded. “It’s just…” he groped around silently, trying to find the right words to explain his discomfort without giving away his traitorous thoughts. “This… This situation is… highly inappropriate.”

Her expression darkened.

“I told you that I want you for a friend, Link.” She growled, though her anger didn’t seem to hold its usual weight given their current… circumstance. It certainly didn’t help that she looked like a floating head. “Would you hesitate to enter a hot spring with anyone else?”

“N-no,” He stammered, realizing he was moving the conversation in a dangerous direction. “No, you misunderstand… It’s just, you… Y-your state of dress, it…”

He felt his cheeks begin to darken, betraying him. He hazarded a glance in Zelda’s direction against his will and saw her flushing scarlet as well.

“The manner in which I dress,” she snipped acerbically, “is none of your concern, Hero. I am not a child anymore!”

_‘And that is exactly the problem’_ he sulked quietly, inwardly wondering if she realized how petulant she sounded when she said that.

Deciding he needed to do something quick lest she discover that he’d been a little too fixated on her appearance, he cast around for some sort of plausible excuse that could double as a distraction.

“O-of course not, Prin-… Zelda. I simply meant… ah, that is, as it pertains to the reason behind your visit, I… I worry that your… outfit… might be distracting for… For Bludo and Yunobo when they arrive! I don’t want to see your position weaken in the eyes of your supporters because they see you as a woman first instead of as their queen.”

He was babbling. Oh Goddess, just strike him down right now. Let him die in his misery before he shamed himself any further…

Zelda was staring at him with wide, startled eyes.

“I…” She began, then paused, looking troubled. “I hadn’t…”

She looked down at the water, her brows knitting together. Her long golden hair was fanning out around her shoulders. Her expression was oddly nostalgic; she looked just like she did when she was struggling over some complicated scientific problem.

Finally she looked back up at Link, her eyes wide, her cheeks pink.

“Um… I… A-are you really certain that they… would notice?”

Link frowned, completely at a loss. How would they not notice? How would anyone not notice? Did she really have no idea how distracting she was?!

“How can they not look at you?” He blathered without thinking, then realizing what he said, panicked and tried to backtrack. “I-I mean, they’re here to talk to you, right? So they’re going to be looking right at you.”

“N-no, that’s not… what I mean is, do they… I mean, do Gorons… notice things like that?”

Link was confused. “What, you mean… Do they notice clothing? I mean… sure, they don’t wear a lot of it, but they’re not blind-”

She let out an exasperated groan, flicking water at his face. “I know that! What I mean is… do Gorons… would they, as a species, even be looking at… my… _parts?”_

Link blinked several times. Had she… just said that? Was his princess really sitting here discussing her ‘parts’ with him? Panic was beginning to overtake him as images he didn’t want to be envisioning began popping up inside his skull.

He adjusted the way he was sitting and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

_Bludo, Yunobo, where are you?! Come save me!_

Zelda wasn’t done yet, though. Her speech had quickened, clearly flustered at the direction their conversation was going; at least he wasn’t the only uncomfortable person here.

“I mean to say, are they biologically engineered to notice things like that? Do they even possess the capacity for sexual reproduction?”

Her cheeks had gone completely red at this point, and her voice had dropped down to a morbid whisper as though just the act of asking that question had been tremendously inappropriate.

Link stared, absolutely dumbstruck.

Sexual reproduction. Zelda had just said the phrase ‘sexual reproduction’. Zelda, his princess, in a rather incriminating state of undress and alone with him in a very comfortable, steamy pool of water had just whispered the words ‘sexual reproduction.’

His throat had gone completely dry.

“I have no idea.” He rasped, his voice unnaturally high.

“Me neither!” Zelda gushed, her whisper now emphatic and relieved. She scooted closer through the water and he about leapt out of his skin. “I honestly have no clue! I’ve been thinking about this the entire time I’ve been here- Yunobo is Daruk’s great-grandson, and yet I’ve never met a female Goron in my entire life, nor even heard of one. In fact, they don’t seem to possess any external sexual organs at all. How exactly do they reproduce?”

From the tone of her voice and the familiar glimmer in her eyes, Link could tell that Zelda had landed herself one of those tricky science-y questions that she so loved to pick apart, but for Link, the mystery of Goron Reproduction was completely lost on him. All he saw in that moment was an absurdly beautiful, soaking wet, half-naked Princess of Hyrule sitting far too close to him, her eyes sparkling with rapture.

He tried to speak, and only managed to let out a pained croak.

Luckily, he was saved from having to come up with an answer by the arrival of their host.

“Oh-ho!” Came the loud, deep chuckle of the Goron chieftain, Bludo, “I see the two of you jumped in without me!”

The massive, elderly Goron shuffled forward, ambulating on both his reedy legs and his massive, meaty fists, his large beard scrapping along the ground as he went. Yunobo came trotting along behind him, flashing Link a nervous smile over his leader’s shoulder.

Link could have kissed them both. He was saved! They would undoubtedly provide the distraction he needed, both to claim Zelda’s attention and to take his mind away from his princess’s… well… everything. Hylia had actually answered his prayers.

Before he and Zelda could do much more than offer their greetings, the older Goron reached the side of the hot spring and, without any warning, seized the edges of the pool in his two giant fists and swung himself in.

Two things happened: the first was the creation of a veritable wave of hot water that crashed right into Link and Zelda’s faces, making them splutter and choke. The second was that the addition of the massive Goron to the hot spring suddenly made the pool seem a whole lot smaller. Zelda was forced to move in closer to Link to give the older man space. Her leg brushed up against his under the water, and he let out an unmanly squeak.

Both Zelda and Yunobo looked at Link askance.

Bludo, however, didn’t notice, enthralled as he was by the warm water. The older man let out a moan of pure ecstasy as he stretched back, resting his hands up on the dry ground.

“Oooh yeah… that hits the spot…”

Yunobo climbed in not long after, forcing Link and Zelda to move even closer together. The two were practically side-by-side now. He could feel her hip and shoulder pressed up against his. His breathing had become strained. He was distinctly uncomfortable.

“Link…” Zelda hissed, frowning at him.

“What?”

“Move your arm.”

Without waiting for permission, Zelda took his arm and moved it, angling his now leaden appendage over her head so that it rested on the hot ground behind her shoulders. He hardly noticed the heat, though; moving his arm had given her a little more room to move, and she’d apparently decided to use it to settle a little more comfortably against him. She was practically leaning on him, her wet hair tickling his bicep, though he could tell from the look on her face that she was too focused on Bludo and Yunobo to pay him any mind.

He, however, was hyperventilating. This… This… was completely inappropriate! If anyone saw them…! Well, Bludo and Yunobo could see them, but they clearly didn’t understand- she was the princess! He was her knight! If Impa were here, or Purah, or Robbie, or any of the Zora, or… or… If this was back before the Calamity, King Rhoam would be asking for his head! And Link would probably give it to him! This was wrong! So wrong! On so many levels!

“So…” Bludo began, his voice rumbling up lazily from within his cavernous chest. “What was it you two were whispering about before we arrived?”

Link felt Zelda stiffen beside him. Her cheeks, already pink from the heat, grew even redder.

Bludo caught her discomfited expression and let out a coarse chuckle.

“Oh-ho! I see, I see… Two young people, alone together in a hot spring… Yes, I’m pretty sure I can imagine what was going on! Har har har!”

Zelda’s jaw had dropped open in shock. As for Link, utter mortification was coursing through him, making his insides knot up painfully. No, that isn’t what was going on! …at least, in reality. That was, however, exactly what Link had been trying to stop from going on within the confines of his imagination for the past several minutes. But nobody needed to know that. Least of all Zelda.

Bludo was still chuckling good-naturedly. Even Yunobo looked amused, flashing Link a sly, knowing grin.

Desperate to change the topic, Link found himself blabbering out without thinking, “Actually, we were discussing the nature of Goron sexual reproduction.”

“Link!” Zelda practically squealed, her face stricken with horror. Link blinked, then replayed the words that had just come out of his mouth.

Oh Goddess.

Kill him now.

Yunobo’s grin had devolved into an uncomfortable frown, and even the Elder looked taken aback.

“Were ya now…” He rumbled, thankfully not sounding offended, though his one good eye had a curious gleam to it. “Any particular reason?”

“O-oh!” Zelda blurted out hastily, desperate to take over the situation, “It was just… curiosity. Scientific inquiry and… and… a desire to… better know my people! We, ah, had just been discussing Yunobo’s lineage, and it occurred to us that we didn’t know any female Gorons, that’s all. We meant no offense!”

Beneath the water, Zelda was pinching Link’s thigh as hard as she could. He grunted in pain, but did his best to not let it show on his face.

To the surprise of the two Hylians, Bludo threw his head back and roared in laughter.

“Har har har! No offense taken, young ones! Foreigners are always askin’ us questions about that, aren’t they, Yunobo? But don’t worry- I can answer your questions for ya right now!”

Link’s expression stilled. His predicament with Zelda momentarily forgotten, he turned his head and exchanged confused, uncomfortable glances with the princess. Bludo was going to teach them about Goron reproduction? …right now?

“Ya see,” Bludo began, not waiting to see if they were listening, “we Gorons are creatures of the earth. We owe our lives to it, and to this mountain. Hyrule has named this ashy volcanic soil the mountain of Death, but to the Goron, it is also the mountain of Life.”

“Because you consume the minerals dug out of the mountain’s side as a source of nutrients.” Zelda supplied, nodding to show she was following along.

“Yes, but not just that. See, we Gorons are born from the mountain. She is our mother. When we are born, we rise up from out of her rocky womb; and when we die, we lay our bodies to rest within her molten cradle. Life and Death for the Goron are inextricably tied to this mountain.”

A silence fell over the group as Link and Zelda considered his words.

Death Mountain gave birth to the Gorons? Wait… the Gorons… came out of the ground? Seriously? In his head, Link couldn’t help but picture a Goron farmer hoeing a field full of tiny rocky cabbages, all of them opening up to reveal little, mewling Goron babies inside.

“So you are saying…” Zelda began slowly, her browns knit together in confusion, “that the Goron… come up out of the ground?”

“More or less.” Bludo replied, shrugging as he scratched absently at his bulging belly. At his side, Yunobo was looking at his leader askance. “It’s more like we mine ‘em out of the ground. Sometimes, when we’re lookin’ for ore, we come across our new brothers sleeping in the soil. According to tradition, the one who finds them becomes their father. And that is how we reproduce.”

Zelda looked completely flummoxed. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she still had a hundred different questions though she was unsure where to begin asking. Link had a few questions himself; like, if the Gorons really came out of the ground, who put them there in the first place? The Goddess? Did that mean that they actually didn’t have any biological sex? If so, why did they call themselves by masculine terminology? And why wasn’t this common knowledge amongst the other races of Hyrule? Surely such a simple fact ought to have at least been known by the Royal Family.

Before either of them could begin asking their questions, however, Bludo cut in with a gentle clearing of his throat.

“If you don’t mine me sayin’, Princess, you’re looking a tad flushed.”

He was right; Zelda’s entire face was bright pink. This wasn’t from embarrassment; the heat was getting to her.

“The other races,” Bludo continued, though he was clearly addressing Yunobo this time, “can’t stay too long in our hot springs. They’re much too fragile, and this heat is bad for their health.”

Yunobo nodded sagely, as though memorizing an important piece of information that he’d need to know about the world. Link got the feeling that Bludo was speaking down to them, but he didn’t really care; he was right, after all. If Zelda stayed here in the hot spring for too much longer, she could grow ill and pass out. And in any event, if they left now, they could change and start off on their journey back down the mountain. They might even make it to the Foothhill Stable before nightfall.

“Then we shall take our leave of you.” Link replied, offering their hosts a short nod of thanks.

“It was an honor to meet you, Chief Bludo, Champion Yunobo.” Zelda intoned warmly, nodding to both men as well. “Thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to working with you in the future.”

“You as well, Lass.” Bludo replied, waving his hand absently. His eyes were closed and he’d settled back against the edge of the spring. He looked like he was gearing up to take a nap.

Yunobo was much more polite, offering the princess a handshake with his admittedly much larger hand.

“Goodbye, Your Highness! Link! I hope we meet again soon!”

“We will.” Link replied with a friendly grin, taking Yunobo’s hand himself as Zelda clambered out of the pool, hissing as her feet touched back down on the hot stone. “You keep practicing with Daruk’s sword, and the next time we meet, let’s have a match.”

“O-oh!” Yunobo replied, taken aback. “…yeah. Yeah! It’s a deal!”

Link laughed, clapping his young friend on the shoulder before turning to leave the spring himself.

“Oh!” he heard Zelda exclaim, “My skirt!”

Right as he looked up, Zelda bent over to reclaim her forgotten article of clothing.

His eyes zeroed in on her backside.

Time stopped moving.

_My eyes…_ The errant thought skittered across Link’s mind like grease on a griddle. _Why have you betrayed me…?_

As though sensing his gaze, Zelda turned back as she straightened up, pushing her wet hair behind her ear, her skirt held in her hand, and their eyes met.

Icy fear spiked its way through his heart. She caught him staring. She knew…

Her eyes had grown round, her cheeks flush, her lips scrunched up in a small line that made her look positively innocent. Her expression was… confused. And mortified. And… there was something else in the back of her eyes… was it anger? Hurt? Betrayal? Something else, something…?

He didn’t wait to figure out what it was. Without a word, he stepped out of the pool and walked away, leaving her and the two Gorons to stare silently at his retreating back. He left his clothing forgotten by the boulder they’d used as a changing room earlier. He wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Not after he found a high enough cliff to throw himself off of.

Why did the Goddess Hylia have to give him these infernal hormones?

Back at the hotspring, Yunobo watched the princess of Hyrule hastily tie her skirt around her waist before snatching up Link’s clothes and running off after him, dancing painfully from foot to foot as the hot stone of the mountain burned her tender Hylian flesh. When they were far enough away that they were out of earshot, the newly named Champion turned to his Elder and asked hesitantly,

“Uh… Bludo, sir… Is it really ok to lie to the Princess of Hyrule like that?”

Bludo let out a snort of laughter.

“Ha! It was just a joke! If she doesn’t have a sense of humor, then that girl has no business ruling this country.”

A moment passed in which Yunobo settled back in the water and considered the future and his place within it, and then Bludo let out another wry snort.

“Gorons born from out of the ground… Hylians are so gullible.”


	9. Silent Princess

It’s funny how something as simple as setting up camp at the end of a long day can spark a change in the way that one sees the world around them. In one moment, in the span of a heartbeat, a switch gets flipped and everything is suddenly… different.

Zelda had been kneeling down before a pile of dry twigs that she’d been intending to use to start their campfire while Link busied himself unburdening the horses; Epona and her own pure-white stallion, Daphnes (named after her grandfather), had already had their saddles removed, their bodies rubbed down, their feedbags placed over their muzzles.

Link was struggling with their third horse, the one gifted to them by the Sheikah who had been Link’s temporary mount and now served carrying most of their supplies. He unlatched the last strap tying down one of their larger saddle bags right as Zelda finally managed to get the fire going, and as she sat back to admire the tiny, newly born flame, Link staggered off to the side with his heavy burden (no doubt full of most of his heavier pieces of armor) looking for a place to set it down.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Link bend over as though to plop the heavy bag down behind a tree only let out an oath as his body performed an odd sort of frantic, twisting motion, as though he’d changed his mind over where to place the heavy bag mid-motion and lost his balance. Somehow, her normally stoic, unflappable Hero toppled over sideways with a hoarse yelp, the bag flying out of his hands and bursting open, sending bits of clothing and armor tumbling down the short, grassy hill.

Zelda was on her feet and hastening to his side in a matter of seconds.

“Link! Link, are you-?!”

She needn’t have concerned herself. He was on the ground laughing, his face screwed up in a way that looked both embarrassed and uncomfortable.

“Yeah, yeah, I… haha… ow… Sorry. Guess I lost my balance there.”

“It’s a miracle somebody as coordinated as you managed to save Hyrule.” She joked, offering him a hand to pull him to his feet which he accepted gratefully.

“I actually tripped and fell on Ganon and just happened to impale him with my sword.” He replied cheekily once he’d gotten back to his feet, rubbing surreptitiously at his bruised backside. “You did the rest of the work yourself.”

“That explains a great deal.” She glanced around at the ground beneath them curiously.

“What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to find whatever it was that tripped you so we can remove it. I don’t want to stumble over it by accident tonight when it gets dark.”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t…” He looked away, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head. “I didn’t trip. I was just trying to avoid crushing a flower.”

“You were…” She turned her head to glance in the direction he was looking and found, growing out of the ground just behind the nearby apple tree, a solitary blue-and-white flower. A Silent Princess.

Something inside of her seemed to throb. She felt her breath catch.

“They’re your favorites, right?” Link continued, completely unaware of what was going on in his companion’s head. “I remember you telling me that they only grow in the wild and were almost extinct. I thought it’d be a shame if I accidentally crushed one.”

_That_ was why he had fallen? Her mighty Hero, slayer of a thousand monsters, wielder of the Master Sword, the man who conquered Calamity Ganon, had made a complete fool of himself trying to avoid crushing a flower?

Zelda had stopped listening. A sudden realization had struck her, fast and hard, jarring her, making her head spin and her pulse quicken.

She was in love with Link.

It was funny. Before, it had taken a horrifying tragedy, the loss of everyone and everything she knew and loved, the veritable apocalypse, and watching Link prepared to die for her before it had finally clicked in her brain. Granted, she hadn’t quite realized what it was at the time, had done her best to ignore it, to push it away… This time…

This time there was no great event, no heroic, selfless sacrifice. Just a silly boy and a silly flower. And yet she knew it, just as surely as she had back then for all that she had been denying it. She was completely, hopelessly in love with him.

Link had said something else, heading off to collect his discarded equipment, but Zelda paid him no mind, slowly turning around and heading back to the slowly growing fire, her mind racing. This revelation, if it could be called that, wasn’t exactly surprising; after all, it was her love for him that had triggered her Goddess-granted powers in the first place, or at least that was what she had come to believe. That had been over a hundred years ago.

Yet, somehow, in that intervening time, since being rescued and the defeat of the Calamity and her return to reality, she had managed to push her emotions down, convince herself that she was wrong, that it had just been the heat of the moment that had inspired those palpitations in her heart.

After all, Link had little to no memory of the life they’d lived before, and she… she desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were… not just with him, but with everything. She’d blindly accepted living in denial for a chance at the comfort that the old and familiar brought her. But now… now that she knew, now that she could no longer hide it from herself, everything… everything felt so different. And, truth be told… she was scared.

It was improper. A princess couldn’t fall in love with her knight. Link would never accept it, for one; his duty was everything to him. Just getting him to stick his toes over the line and use her first name had been like pulling teeth. How could she ever get him to return her feelings? And how would the others react?!

Well… Truth be told, this had been exactly what Impa had been trying to get her to accept, for all that Zelda had been doing her best to feign ignorance, even to herself. Purah wouldn’t care, nor would Robbie. Most of the leaders of the various races didn’t know anything about proper marriage protocol for royalty among Hylians save for King Dorephan, yet Zelda had the distinct feeling that she could announce she were marrying an elderly farmer and the Zoran king wouldn’t care so long as she was happy. Which just left… Link.

As she knelt by the fire, illuminated by the dancing flames as the sun began to descend behind the distant Hebra mountains, she watched her knight and hero make himself busy setting up her tent. She was supposed to be working too; it was her night to do the cooking, after all, and she’d been boasting earlier that day about a new, experimental dish she wanted to try that had had Link blanching in poorly-contained horror. Only, she was finding it difficult to focus on anything else. She’d finally accepted it, accepted the way she felt about him, and while everything suddenly felt different… everything also felt exactly the same. And it both excited and frustrated her.

She was in love with Link. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was in love… so this is what it was like…

The Silent Princess got its name from a famed princess of old, the Princess of Destiny, who in the stories had worked alongside the Hero of Time to seal Calamity Ganon away. It was an old story, older even than the guardians, older than the Divine Beasts. Nearly as old as Hyrule itself. The Silent Princess was an homage to one of Hyrule’s greatest rulers, who it was rumored had been in love with her Hero but who had never told him, instead choosing to let him go. Zelda didn’t know if there was any truth to that old legend; honestly, she didn’t know if there had ever been a Princess of Destiny or a Hero of Time. She also didn’t know why, if she was real, she had made such a decision. To let the one you love walk out of your life without ever saying a word…

But then, perhaps she had her reasons. Perhaps her Hero had been much like hers; absorbed by his duty, always conscious of the way class divided them, always getting himself hurt on her behalf. Their differences might have been too much to overcome. The risks too great.

For even though Zelda had only just now awoken to the reality of the depth of her attachment to Link, she could already tell that the pain of losing it, of losing him, would completely tear her apart. The fear of that very possible future chilled her blood like an icy shard to the heart, and she was no longer smiling. Shaking her head, she busied herself with getting their supper started.

Perhaps it would be better to take a page from her flower. For now, at least, the princess would remain silent.


	10. A Boy and A Blade

Their return trip through the Lost Woods was a quiet one.

Link hadn’t said a word since bidding farewell to the Great Deku Tree and his friends who lived in the Korok Woods. His silence, once familiar and comforting, now weighed down on Zelda’s psyche like a Tallus.

He was hurting, emotionally. She could see it in the set of his shoulders, in the shadows in his eyes, but he wouldn’t tell her, wouldn’t give voice to his pain. She loathed it when he did that, but even more, she loathed the fact that she had no idea how to make him feel any better. Honestly, she was still struggling to process what had just happened herself.

Her Hero had given up the Master Sword and returned it to its slumber.

She had been surprised when Link had revealed his plans to the Great Deku Tree when the two had arrived to make their ‘official’ visit; granted, the Great Deku Tree was a powerful spirit of nature who resided deep within the Great Hyrule Forrest and who had little care for mortal politics, but Zelda’s visit had been less about reintroducing the long-lost heir to the throne and more about thanking the kindly elderly spirit for all that he had done for them, Link and Zelda both. So when Link had revealed to them his desire to lay his Sacred Blade to rest in the pedestal where it had waited for him for the last century, Zelda had been understandably taken aback.

This sword, it belonged to Link! It was a part of Link! Together, the two had saved her county, had saved her! To part the two, to separate them, simply felt wrong! It was like taking the sun from the sky, the salt from the sea. They were designed, created, _ordained_ to be together! Two things meant to be together should not be made to be apart!

If the Great Deku Tree had been startled by Link’s pronouncement, he hid it a great deal better than she had.

“Link…” The great spirit intoned gently, “may I ask what the reasoning is behind this decision?”

Her Hero offered up a soft smile, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“This blade,” he replied, his voice little higher than a whisper, “was created for a specific purpose, divinely wrought to slay Ganon and restore peace to Hyrule in times of great need. To use it for any other reason, even the slaying of monsters or in defense of the crown, would be sacrilege…”

He hesitated, staring down at the sword in his hands as though he were speaking to the blade itself.

“I have fulfilled my duty.”

A gentle breeze gusted through the clearing, rustling the trees, making the numerous insects dance wildly through the air. Dappled sunlight shimmered down around them, illuminating her Hero in a radiant beam of light, catching off the blade, making it shine.

“The Calamity has been stopped, at least for now… I must now lay the blade to rest once more in preparation for some future day in which our descendants might have need of its power again. To do otherwise, to continue to abuse this gift… would be wrong.”

Zelda’s breath had caught in her throat. She knew what he was talking about, knew that unique pain of having the burden of the future resting upon one’s conscience; his need to lay the blade to rest wasn’t all that different from her need to one day give birth to a child to pass on the bloodline and gift of the Goddess Hylia- should the Calamity ever return, her people would need both to protect themselves.

But no matter the reason, it tore her up inside to see her Hero look so broken.

The Great Deku Tree had acquiesced, promising to devote his life to watching over the blade just as he watched over the forest, until the day the world had need of it once more. With a grateful nod, Link strode up to the pedestal, and, with the eyes of Zelda, the Great Deku Tree, and hundreds of Koroks focused intently upon him, drove the blade point first into the stone.

There was no tremor, no flash of light, no dramatic noise. With none of the tumultuous fanfare that she felt such an important moment should warrant, it was done.

The Master Sword slept once more.

Link’s hand had lingered on the pommel a moment longer as though he were saying goodbye… then with a deep breath, he steeled himself and stepped away.

The duo hadn’t remained in the Korok Woods for long after that. After exchanging a few more words with the Great Deku Tree, the two turned to make their way out of the forest and back to their horses when, to her surprise, the Deku Tree called her back.

Curious, Zelda returned, her eyes intent upon the ancient creature’s weathered face, wondering if he meant to impart upon her some great wisdom to aid her in ruling her country.

“Princess…” The Tree began, his voice soft despite his enormous size, “I had wondered if you had found the courage to give to Link the message you tried to leave with me all of those years ago…”

Zelda blinked, confused, and then felt her cheeks stain with color. Quickly turning her head, she made sure that Link was far enough away to not hear their conversation. From the looks of things, he was occupied saying his farewells to Hestu. Relief flooding through her, she turned back to the Great Deku Tree and swallowed thickly past the lump that had formed in her throat.

“No, Great Deku Tree.” She replied, trying to sound formal and polite and not at all like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. “I… I have not found the time to… to discuss such matters as of yet. I have been focusing intently on the restoration of my country and the wellbeing of my people. My personal desires must take a step back for the time being.”

She winced; towards the end there, she’d started to sound haughty and superior. She hadn’t meant to, but she was feeling defensive for some reason. She still hadn’t quite decided what she was going to do about her feelings for Link, or if it was even right to do anything at all. It may simply sound like a convenient excuse, but she really did feel guilty pursuing personal matters while her country lay in ruins.

The Deku Tree smiled as though reading her thoughts.

“Your dedication to your people is truly inspiring, Princess.” There was a warmth underlining his tone that made her defenses lower. “Hyrule is blessed to have you. However, if I might offer you some advice…

“The strength you needed to hold back the Calamity these one-hundred years, and the strength you will need to rebuild Hyrule… they need not come from different places. If you have found something that can give you that strength, do not push it away. You cannot help Hyrule by denying yourself of happiness. Or by denying happiness to someone else who might desperately be in need of it.”

Zelda swallowed thickly. If anyone else had said that to her, she probably would have died from embarrassment, but there was just something about this grandfatherly tree that set her mind and heart at ease.

Denying herself of happiness… was that really what she was doing? Avoiding telling Link how she felt… was it truly just cowardice? What would change between them if she found the courage to spill her heart? Would he feel the same? Would he rebuff her out of duty? If he did, how could they go on working together?! She couldn’t risk losing him! She couldn’t restore Hyrule without him!

The Great Deku Tree let out a rumbling chuckle that seemed to shake the very earth.

“Fear not, child. I am not telling you to speak your heart right now. However, think on my words. You have a duty to yourself as much as you do a duty to Hyrule.”

A duty to herself…

The path through the Lost Woods was twisted and confusing, but the Korok who had volunteered to guide them safely back out navigated the ancient trees with expert ease. Several minutes had passed since the two Hylians had left the Korok Woods, but not a word had been said between them. Link forged on just a step or two ahead of her, his head kept down, his face devoid of emotion, but Zelda could practically feel the negative vibes wafting off of him. Replacing the Master Sword had upset him more than he was letting on. If only there was some way she could help him…

Unbidden, the Great Deku Tree’s words echoed through her head.

_“You cannot help Hyrule by denying yourself of happiness. Or by denying happiness to someone else who might desperately be in need of it.”_

Was this… her chance? If she confessed to him now and he felt the same, would it… would it be enough to drive away his sorrows at having to give up his Sacred Blade? She’d be doing him a favor, really… honestly, if this worked, it… it would be wrong to keep quiet and let him continue to mourn…

But then, what if he didn’t feel the same and it just made things worse? Or what if he did feel the same, but it didn’t make him feel better, so his sadness ruined what ought to be their special moment?! No, no, stop thinking like that, that’s a completely selfish viewpoint to take. This is about making Link feel better, not… well. Actually, no, it was about the both of them. So then… what was she supposed to do?!

While Link trudged along in quiet misery, Zelda was having a full-blown panic attack behind him. Lifting her hands to rub at her reddened cheeks, she silently wondered what all of the brave, powerful women she’d known in her life would do in this situation.

Urbosa probably would have seized Link by the lapels and demanded that he love her. And he probably would have. Urbosa was amazing; strong, intimidating, beautiful… Everything Zelda was not. Impa would have impressed him with her incredible wisdom and unbending spirit. Purah would charm him with her bubbly personality and sense of humor. Mipha… well, best not to think of Mipha. She’d actually had feelings for Link. The realization that, had the Calamity not destroyed everything, the two princesses might have become rivals for Link’s affection, made her feel twisted up and confused inside. She had liked Mipha, she didn’t want to deny that girl her happiness… But she loved Link. She couldn’t have stepped aside either. Hmm…

A tinkling noise off to the side caught her attention, and she turned her head to find a gaggle of Koroks rushing through the trees alongside them. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise; well, what was this now? A farewell procession? Or was this simply another one of the Koroks’ famous games?

When they saw that she had spotted them, the Koroks became excited, hopping up and down, jabbering animatedly at one another, gesticulating wildly with their knobby little hands.

Zelda didn’t understand… were they trying to tell her something? She shook her head to indicate her lack of comprehension. Honestly, the tiny woodland creatures were cute, but they could be confusing at times. Almost like an entire species of children…

Suddenly, two of the Koroks stepped forward, separating themselves from the pack. One of them took a knee, brandishing a flower to the other who pretended to swoon in delight.

Zelda stared for a moment, nonplussed, until it clicked. Her breath caught, eyes widened in horror, and her cheeks all but caught on fire.

They were goading her into confessing! They wanted to watch! Like she was a spectacle for their entertainment! Those… those _little…!_

Silently, so as not to alert Link, Zelda shook her head vehemently, her hair whipping around behind her as she made violent gestures with her hands, trying to get them to leave.

They didn’t.

The group followed them, dogging their journey through the forest, tinkling as they moved, popping up around trees and behind bushes, gesturing for her to make her move, pantomiming cliched scenes of romance. Pretending to dance. Pretending to kiss. Somehow fabricating an entire miniature wedding scene in a matter of seconds, complete with a fake priest and a shower of flower petals.

Every time they pulled something new out, Zelda’s embarrassment would only increase and she would motion for them to leave, mouthing threats that would have scandalized her caretakers at the castle, but it only seemed to make the Koroks grow more and more animated. She had no idea how Link hadn’t noticed any of this yet, but if she didn’t do something fast, her secret could get blown before she got the chance to tell him herself!

That is, if she even wanted to tell him. Right now could be her moment, but it could also be the absolute worst time to confess her feelings for someone. She had no way of knowing; she’d never confessed to anyone before. She’d never had anyone to confess to! All in all, she was woefully unprepared and did not appreciate being stalked and pressured by a group of forest spirit voyeurs!

She’d never felt more harassed or embarrassed in her life! Well, that wasn’t entirely true; there was that incident in Goron City a little ways back in which she’d actually been forced to don that scandalous Gerudo outfit Rhondson had given her. Truth be told, she actually thought it was quite lovely… she just hadn’t wanted to wear it in front of Link. And even though she’d been dying of embarrassment, and even though she’d done her best to completely submerge her body beneath the water of the hot spring so as to hide herself from the world, there had still been a small part of her (one she could admit to having been there now) that had wanted him to look, that had wanted to gauge his reaction…

And the fool had all but ignored her! The one time she thought she’d caught him staring, his expression hadn’t exactly been one of delight, or interest, or… whatever it was she had hoped to see. He’d looked shocked. And ill. Undoubtedly because he was scandalized. He’d hardly spoken to her for the rest of the day. Not exactly positive signs that he might possibly be harboring a secret infatuation for her as well.  

If she was going to confess, she wanted to have some sort of assurance that he felt the same, or was at least capable of giving her a chance. She couldn’t afford to risk what she had with him. She needed him by her side, as her lover or her knight or however she could take him.

Which is exactly why she did _not_ need this procession of moonstruck hooligans harassing her!

Ahead of her, Link’s boot caught on a root and he stumbled, only just barely managing to catch himself before falling face-first in the dirt.

“Oh! Are you alright?” She found herself asking almost without thinking, hastening to his side.

“I’m fine, Zelda. Fine.”

She blinked, drawing back the hand she’d extended to steady him. He hadn’t even looked at her, and his tone… it was far gruffer than usual. That was odd… actually, it was odd for him to have stumbled at all. He usually had a very keen feel for the environment around them no matter where they were.

For that matter, it was incredibly unusual that he hadn’t yet spotted the Koroks. Link always had an eye on their surroundings, constantly on the hunt for impending danger, even when they were somewhere safe like in a town or village. Or the sacred forest watched over by the Great Deku Tree. He must be far more upset than she’d realized if it was causing him to slip up like this.

Confession or no, she needed to talk to him. Screwing up her courage, she hurried forward until she’d matched his stride.

“Link,” she began without preamble, her tone laced with the sort of authority one obtained when they were used to being obeyed, “we need to talk.”

He nodded to show he was listening, but otherwise didn’t reply or acknowledge her. She frowned. Upset or not, there was no need to be rude!

Taking a breath to calm herself, she hurried on.

“You’re upset.”

“I’m not-” he began automatically, then hesitated, seemingly catching himself. He ran an anxious hand through his hair.

“I’m not upset.” He continued, moderating his tone. “I just feel… I dunno. Strange, I suppose.”

“That’s probably to be expected.” She offered up consolingly. “You and that blade were tied together. Giving it up must make you feel like you’ve lost an arm or forgotten how to speak.”

He nodded, but said nothing, as though he’d done just that.

The silence threatened to take them again. Determined not to lose, Zelda forced out another question.

“So… why did you, then?”

He looked at her in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“Give up the sword, I mean.”

He shrugged, looking away.

“It was the right thing to do. I was free to use it, but… the Master Sword doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to Hyrule. My time with it was done.”

“Perhaps.” Zelda replied, looking away.

Their guide was still tottering on ahead, apparently not paying them any attention. She could still feel the eyes of the other Koroks on her, though, watching silently from the trees like a cluster of blood-thirsty carrion eaters. It was discomfiting… but still better than having them directly interfering, she supposed.

“Though honestly, Link,” she continued, trying her best to pretend like the Koroks weren’t there, “I don’t think it would have been wrong for you to continue using it a while longer. It’s not as though it’s doing any good alone there in the forest.”

He licked his lips, looking uncomfortable.

“Honestly, it’s not as though I wanted to be rid of it, Zelda. But I… When we arrived, when I saw the pedestal, I… It’s as though I knew what I needed to do. Like something in my blood told me my time was done. I don’t know what to call it. A feeling, I suppose. Maybe it was the Goddess interceding. Or maybe I’m just crazy. I don’t know. But it felt right.”

She stared at him dubiously out of the corner of her eye. A message from the Goddess? Could it be…? It was certainly possible; the legends said that it was she who had made the blade in the first place. But then, if it really was her that had compelled Link to return the blade, was it her with whom he was upset? Yet he agreed that it had felt ‘right’, so then… what was it that was eating at him? Did he feel weaker? Fear a loss of strength? That can’t be right; Link had felled countless monsters with lesser-weapons. She had seen him rip apart a horde of skeletal Bokoblins using nothing but one of their own severed arms. He was a fierce fighter with whatever he happened to have on hand.

It hit her then in a profound wave of understanding. She knew what was wrong. She knew what he was feeling in this moment, because it was exactly what she had been feeling all those years ago as she stood alone at the Sacred Springs, desperately pleading for a response that never came. Without the blade, he was just as she had been without her powers. Impotent. Unable to fulfill his duty.

Though, for him, his duty had already been fulfilled. Perhaps, then, the issue wasn’t so much that he felt powerless… Perhaps it was that he felt purposeless. The Master Sword had been a defining part of his being for so long now. Even when he’d forgotten everything after waking in the Shrine of Resurrection, he’d told her he’d felt something drawing at him from a distance, calling out to him. Now that he was without it, he must feel lost, set adrift at sea without a sail to catch the wind and guide him. She could almost see the question in his eyes; without the Master Sword, who was he? Where did he go from here?

Well… no sense in dawdling. She might as well go ahead and pull him out of his slump.

“It’s an interesting gift the Goddess has given you, isn’t it?” She asked, her tone pensive.

“Gift?” He asked, jerking out of his reverie.

“Yes. For the last one-hundred years, your life has been completely devoted to Hyrule. Part of that was your choosing, yes, but part of that was not. You drew the Master Sword, and when you did, your fate became inextricably linked with that of our nation. Whether to face Calamity Ganon or not was no longer a choice you could make; it was an inevitability. Though we pretended to retain our autonomy, in truth, Link, we were very much slaves to the Goddess’s will. I don’t think either of us could have run from this, even if we had wanted to, no matter how hard we tried.

“Don’t misunderstand,” she continued, meeting his astonished gaze, “I’m not saying that I regret being chosen. That I was born as the Princess of Hyrule, that it was I alone who could access the divine Sealing Power… it has been difficult, tremendously so, for the both of us to fulfill our duties and to keep Hyrule safe… but I wouldn’t have things any other way. Even after all that I’ve suffered, even after all that I’ve lost… If I was given the choice to go back and live a different life, I would turn it down in a heartbeat. I’m proud to have been given this duty. Proud that she chose me to inherit this gift. Proud of all that we’ve accomplished. But now that it’s over… I confess, I feel a little lost. As I’m sure you do too, now that you’ve returned the Master Sword to its resting place.”

She gave him a knowing look, and her hero gaped at her for a long moment before letting out a hoarse grunt and turning away, a begrudging smile on his face.

A moment of silence passed.

Finally he muttered, his tone wry, “It disturbs me how good you’ve become at reading my mind.”

She couldn’t help it; she laughed.

“Destiny no longer dictates our actions.” Her voice was bold, her eyes flashing in the dim light that filtered through the thick canopy of branches overhead. “I think I prefer it that way. Now, we decide who and what we will become. Our choices are inherently our own. The future will be what we make of it. I’m not going to lead our country just because the circumstances of my birth dictated that I would; now, I’m going to lead our country because I’ve fought too hard and too long to see anyone else come in and screw things up. That is my choice. No more second-guessing, no more doubt. You’ve been given that same choice too, Link. Now, you won’t have to be my knight unless you want to be.”

Link shook his head, his eyes downcast.

“I always wanted to be, Zelda.” He whispered softly.

Zelda’s heart throbbed painfully in her chest. Her triumphant momentum stumbled. She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace as painful recollections of their first few weeks together flashed through her head like a terrible, guilt-inducing montage.

“But I… I haven’t always wanted you…”

A half-smirk appeared on his face, the ghost of his usual sense of humor, and he turned to her, no doubt about to make some sort of joke about how she was stuck with him and would just have to learn to deal with it like an adult, only when he caught the expression on her face she could see the words die in his throat. Zelda wasn’t done, but… she was having a hard time getting the words out.

“Link, I…” She hesitated, scrambling around in her head for what she wanted to say. This was her moment; her moment to apologize, to confess to Link that she wanted him as her knight, wanted him by her side, always… but then, that isn’t the only thing she wanted. She wanted more. So, so much more… Only, how could she express that coherently with her thoughts in complete disarray?

“I…”

_Say it!_

“That is, I…”

_Say it! Now is your chance! Where did all your courage go?! Just say it! Tell him how you feel!_

She met his confused, hesitant gaze, saw the familiar blueness of his eyes, questioning, concerned, and felt her nerve start to waver. Screwing up all her self-control, she forced herself to speak.

“You told me before that… that you’d never leave my side, but I haven’t had the chance to say it back. So let me do it now…”

She stepped forward, practically trembling with fear, wishing she had the guts to say everything she wanted to but choosing instead to settle with saying what she could.

“You may have lost the Master Sword, Link,” She whispered, her voice coming out breathy and strained and not at all attractive like she’d hoped, “but you won’t ever lose me. I’ll always be right here. I…” Her heart seamed to leapfrog into her throat, obstructing her words. “I… want to k-keep you… as my knight…”

That… wasn’t what she wanted to say. Not at all. Defeat and shame and disappointment welled up inside of her, threatening to drown her from within. Goddess, she was such a coward…! How is it that she’d had the guts to march alone into Hyrule Castle to face the Calamity without her Hero or the Master Sword, yet now she couldn’t even form a sentence correctly?! She was so upset, she was a half-second away from bursting into frustrated tears.

Before she could completely break down, she shot one last look at Link’s face and was surprised to find him staring at her in complete disbelief.

“Do you realize,” he said after a moment, “that that’s the first time you’ve ever told me that?”

Zelda blinked, confused. “I… what?”

“You’ve never told me you wanted me to be your knight. Before, you didn’t want me around at all, and then after we defeated the Calamity, you kept going on about how you wanted me to be your friend-”

“I do!” She interrupted quickly, ready to verbally beat him back down if he tried to worm his way out of their agreement again.

“I know, I know!” He laughed, surprising her with how genuine it sounded, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “I am your friend, Zelda. Always. But I’m your knight, too. You’re… You’re all I have left of my old life. That’s more true now than ever. And I just… I’m glad I have you, is all.”

He looked down at his shoes, and it took Zelda a moment to realize what she was seeing.

Link was being… bashful.

Glancing back up at her, struggling meet her eyes, he whispered, “Thank you… for reminding me who I am, and… just, for everything.”

Zelda parted her lips, though she didn’t have anything good to say, and found her tongue knotting up in her mouth as Link’s fingers brushed against hers. Almost in slow motion, she felt them reach out, loosely tangling themselves up in hers.

Her cheeks were on fire. He had to have noticed, but he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he gave her digits a gentle squeeze and then turned and continued on along the path out of the forest toward the distant sunlight.

After the first step, their fingers tugged as though they were going to separate, and she found herself hurrying forward without thinking, matching his stride, her fingers hooking around his in order to prolong the contact and prevent him from letting go. He didn’t comment on it, and neither did she, but neither tried to remove their fingers from the other’s grasp.

Overhead, she could see hundreds of Koroks peeking through the trees, intruding on their moment. Some of them were celebrating, others were clearly upset that they hadn’t seen more, but Zelda paid them no mind. She felt exhilarated. Nothing could bring her down.

And as for telling him how she really felt… well, the Deku Tree had said it didn’t have to be right now. She could wait a little longer. She had a long future ahead of her, and after all, Link had promised to never leave her side. She’d find her chance. Some day.


	11. Cooking Lessons

It took a lot to make Link’s absolute dedication to his ward waver.

In fact, there had been a time in which he’d firmly believed that nothing could weaken his devotion to serving as Zelda’s knight and bodyguard, not even when she was openly avoiding him, ditching him at every turn, verbally assaulting him whenever he showed his face even though he was only doing his duty.

He never had second thoughts, not even as the doom of Calamity Ganon steadily began inching closer and closer even though Zelda was making no progress on unlocking her Goddess-given Sealing Powers, nor when he’d awoken after his one-hundred-year sabbatical to find the world in ruin, his princess gone along with his memory, and the responsibility for fixing everything resting squarely on his shoulders. No, Link had been given countless reasons to doubt or second-guess his loyalty to the crown and had never once, not once, given in.

A certain recent change, however, was pushing his thoughts in mutinous directions he’d thought they’d never go.

“It’s chowder with roast bass!” Zelda announced, a frenetic sort of energy glowing in her eyes. “You’re absolutely going to love it! I’ve got more if you want seconds, so dig in!”

Roast bass, she said? He spooned around through the sludge in his bowl, prodding at the chunks floating within. Yes, some of this could be bass… but not all of it. His insides knotted themselves painfully.

“Um, Zelda…” He began, trying his hardest to feign a politely quizzical tone, “What else do you have in here?”

“Oh, you know, just a few things…” She replied amiably as she ladled out a dish for herself and settled down beside him to eat, an eager smile on her face, “Some Stamella Mushrooms, to give us a little extra energy for the road. Some pumpkin, some herbs and nuts for seasoning… A Hearty Lizard…”

Link sighed, barely withholding the groan that would have surely set her off.

She’d done it again. Experimented with his dinner.

Sweet Hylia above, give him strength…

Ever since his admittedly disastrous attempts at teaching Zelda how to defend herself (though they’d since kept up with the practice, limiting it only to swordplay and at its most basic level), Link had offered to divert her attention with a different sort of lesson: cooking.

It had seemed at the time like a stroke of brilliance; he knew how Zelda loved experimenting with new things, and with cooking there was always something new to try. Plus, once she learned the basics, the two could switch off who would cook which meals, thus lessening his work load and enabling her to feel as though she were being more useful. That, and it took her mind off wanting to learn some of the more crazier things, like how to stealth-kill a Moblin, something he had adamantly refused to teach her.

She taken to the lessons with surprising gusto, and though the first few weeks had been filled with burnt suppers and runny breakfasts, she’d mastered the basics soon enough and before long he was free to focus his attentions on other things on the nights or mornings in which Zelda was responsible for preparing their meals, trusting her to create something reasonably edible. It’s not as though he exactly had a lot of room to talk; he wasn’t a professional chef either, and Link was anything but picky. If it was food, he would eat it. Lots of it. Very quickly. And Zelda was an incredibly smart woman; if Link could master the art of cooking in the wild, she could too.

Or so he’d assumed.

It wasn’t that Zelda’s cooking was bad; quite the contrary. She’d mastered the basics faster and better than he had. It was just… at some point, she’d decided that cooking regular food simply wasn’t interesting enough for her anymore. The scientific part of her mind, the part of her that craved the unknown, the part that boldly went where no one had gone before, had become bored of the regular, acceptable, tried-and-true recipes that Link had given her and had decided to come up with a few on her own.

That by itself wouldn’t be such a big deal – after all, cooking wasn’t all that complicated, and if the result of her experimentation was that the seasoning was off or the ingredients didn’t complement one another, Link probably wouldn’t even notice.

He sighed as he prodded the lump of lizard meat with his spoon.

If only she used actual ingredients meant for cooking…

It had started small. Frogs in their soup. Crushed beetles used as spice. The time she tried to roast a Lizalfos tail on a spit. From there, she’d escalated to boiling Octorok tentacles and trying to spread Chu-Chu jelly over toast. One particularly horrifying evening involved a failed attempt at using Goron Spice and Rock Salt to make palatable an assortment of roasted Keese wings and Molduga fins (not only was the smell enough to make him gag, it was a terrible waste of supplies). And of course, who could forget the stewed Lynel hoof… That one still haunted him in his nightmares.

He'd tried broaching the topic of her culinary escapades with her multiple times, ever so gently, desperately trying to quell her need to experiment with his food without coming across as cruel or ungrateful, but she never seemed to understand Link’s hesitation when it came to putting bizarre, uneatable things into their meals.

“It’s simply illogical!” She ranted to him one day as the duo made their journey towards the Rito Village, their horses plodding along side-by-side at a steady pace, “Perhaps the flesh of monsters is, in fact, inedible for most biological life-forms, but given the fact that it can be safely consumed in potions and elixirs without ill-effect seems to throw the entire notion into question! Moreover, I know for a fact that insects and lizards and the like are safely consumed by other animals- given the proper spice and preparation, there is no rational reason for why they shouldn’t make for perfectly normal meals!”

He hadn’t really known how to argue with that; sure, her explanation was sound, and he sort of saw where she was coming from, but at the same time, all of her previous attempts at mixing those things into otherwise normal dishes had resulted in disaster. Experience trumped logic so far as Link was concerned, at least when it came to his food. Though he refrained from telling Zelda that, much to his stomach’s chagrin.

Honestly… for all that he’d come to dread mealtime when he knew she was responsible for preparing it, he simply didn’t have the heart to do what he knew he’d need to in order to get her to stop. And stop she would if he pressed the issue. Zelda was many things, but self-centered wasn’t one of them, and if he made a big enough fuss about the things she did to his food, he knew she’d put an end to her experimentation and return peace and sanity to what was once his favorite time of day.

So then, why didn’t he? Why did he leave all expressions of disquiet to subtle suggestions and silent prayers of help to the Goddess rather than confronting Zelda directly?

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched his princess as she carefully held her spoon up to her lips, gingerly blowing on the piping-hot liquid in preparation for placing it into her mouth and taking her first taste of her latest concoction. In the light of the fire, her eyes seemed to dance with poorly-contained excitement and anticipation.

He knew that look. He _lived_ for that look. It was the same one she used to get back before the Calamity, when she and Purah and Robbie would tinker around with the Guardians and the lost Sheikah technology. It was the look she got when she allowed herself to become completely absorbed in an activity, as she waited with bated breath to see if her latest experiment would result in success or failure; and oddly, no matter which it wound up being, she never lost that look of rapture and exhilaration that made her expression glow with pride and purpose.

Back then, it was only in times like these that Zelda seemed capable of forgetting the weight of responsibility that rested over her, her duty to her people, her father’s expectations, the approaching Calamity… For that reason, he equated that look with the ‘real’ Zelda, the person she was underneath all the pomp and circumstance, the person she was when she allowed herself to simply ‘be’. It didn’t matter if it was long-lost ancient technology or the culinary arts; as long as she was learning and experimenting with new things, that was when Zelda was truly at her happiest.

And Link could never bring himself to take that from her. Not for all the delicious food in the world.

As he watched, Zelda eagerly popped her spoon into her mouth and paused, her face screwing up in a pained grimace. Link didn’t even have to touch his dinner to tell; once again, her quest had been a failure. He couldn’t stop the rueful smile that tugged at the corners of his lips; he felt bad that she’d been unsuccessful again, but the expression on her face was so comical it made him want to bust out laughing. For the sake of her pride, he refrained. Barely.

Swallowing thickly, Zelda turned to Link, her eyes downcast, her shoulders heavy with embarrassment and shame as she mumbled, “…I think perhaps I used a touch too much of that spice.”

Link nodded wordlessly, his bowl still held precariously in his hand though he’d yet to taste the food himself. Sure, the spice could be the problem… but if he had to put money on it, it was probably the lizard meat.

“What do you think, Link?”

He blanched. Struggling to keep his face still under her inquisitive gaze, he gave out an internal sigh of resignation. Well, there was no avoiding it now… Any hope of dumping his bowl out behind a bush while she wasn’t looking was officially dashed. He had no choice but to take a bite.

Screwing up his courage, Link lifted his spoon and placed it into his mouth.

Oh…

Oh Goddess…

Was she certain this wasn’t simply boiled mud?!

Mustering all his self-control to maintain a straight face (seriously, how did something innocuous like lizard meat turn a respectable chowder into something that tasted akin to putrid moblin sweat?!), Link carefully swallowed the liquid refuse in his mouth and turned to his princess, searching internally for some easy way to let her down without hurting her feelings.

Her eyes were wide and expectant, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her shoulders set as though expecting a physical blow…

His determination faltered.

“A-actually, Zelda…” He found himself stammering, “I don’t think it’s half-bad today.”

What?

_What?_

Zelda was staring at him as though she hadn’t understood what he’d said. Truth be told, he wasn’t certain for a moment that he’d heard himself correctly, either. Before he could reclaim his words, however, Zelda’s expression lit up like a sunrise, her smile so wide and radiant that it blew all other thoughts from his mind.

“Really?! You really mean that, Link?!”

He could only nod dumbly, forgetting momentarily what they were talking about. The way she was beaming at him in that moment, her eyes alive with pride, her skin glowing in the firelight, seemed to hold him spellbound. Sweet Hylia above, she looked beautiful…

“I knew it!” She shouted, causing the horses to shuffle nervously. “I knew I was getting closer! Just you wait, Link, one of these days I’ll figure out the secret and you’ll never doubt my cooking skills again!”

Link nodded, bemused, and before he realized what he was doing, shoved another spoonful of chowder into his mouth.

Oh sweet mercy…

Thankfully, Zelda didn’t notice the way he gagged, completely caught up in her monologue about the ways she could possibly improve the recipe and the potential benefits of mixing the positive aspects of various herbs and vegetables with complementary benefits from insects and monster parts. Link didn’t know anything about that; what he did know was that he’d just doomed himself to a veritable lifetime of terrible meals.

Although, he silently mused as he surreptitiously tried to pour some of his stew onto the ground without Zelda noticing, if it meant he got to see her eyes light up like that more often, the sacrifice might just be worth it.


	12. Rito Village

If there was one thing that set the Rito Village apart from the other settlements that Zelda and Link had visited on their journey thus far, it was the noise.

Night had long-since fallen over the chilly peaks of the Hebra, but sleepiness was the last thing on the minds of the Rito. The village was alive with laughter and music, with singing and dancing and the sounds of jubilation echoing out from all around them. Due to the odd, spiraling shape of the village, constructed around a large natural rock formation, there was nowhere spacious enough to accompany everyone in the town, so they had split themselves up into smaller clusters, making it seem as though the village were being rocked by numerous smaller parties simultaneously.

Zelda and Link had found themselves joining Elder Kaneli in his home near the top of the spiral alongside a few of Link’s more personal acquaintances, all of whom were seated on cushions spread across the floor surrounding the decorative rug that held their food, as was the Rito fashion.

There was Teba, a serious, somewhat gruff Rito warrior who had aided Link in taming Vah Medo, along with his wife Saki and their son Tulin. Beside them sat a dark, sulky fellow named Harth, who apparently was distantly related to Revali (albeit in a round-about sort of way; he was something like Revali’s great-great-nephew, though he hadn’t seemed to care overly much about their connection), and then the rest of the room was occupied by a rather large minstrel named Kass, his wife Amali, and their five boisterous daughters.

It was actually the children who made the room seem so loud. Though the adults were certainly talking and laughing up a storm as they downed goblet after goblet of wine and tore through platters of roasted duck and venison, they couldn’t hold a candle to the high-pitched chirps and squawks of the six little ones clustered together at the end of the room.

In spite of the at-times aggravating volume, Zelda found that she’d spent most of the evening examining the children out of the corner of her eye. Though rowdy and unrestrained (and though she was beginning to develop a headache due to the unparalleled shrillness of their voices), they were also, in a word, positively adorable.

She’d discovered since her journey around Hyrule had begun post-Calamity that she’d become surprisingly enamored by children. It didn’t matter who they were, either; the little Sheikah kids catching fireflies with Link in the evenings in Kakariko, the children playing tag in the streets in Hateno, tiny Zora youth splashing each other in the rivers of their Domain, the little Gorons playing at being tough, strong miners like their fathers and elder brothers… even little Hunnie who had tried to marry Zelda off for cake had been adorable in her own way.

If Link had known of her fascination, or worse, if Purah or Impa had caught on, they’d likely seize the opportunity to tease her, claiming it was her ‘innate maternal instincts’ kicking in, her biological clock ticking away. She could almost hear them jokingly telling her it was time to begin searching for a man to father the next scion of the Hyrulean Royal Family, this naturally playing a part in the restoration of Hyrule and thus a part of her duty... The thought alone made her shiver in horror. She wasn’t ready for that, not yet. (Though Purah would likely find a far more disgustingly crude description if only to rile her up.)

Honestly, though, that wasn’t it… That is to say, she did plan on having children someday (though hopefully not any day soon; Hyrule’s restoration came first, before anything else, especially before marriage and child-rearing), but her sudden captivation had less to do with wanting one of her own and more to do with just how lively they were.

All around her, Hyrule was in ruins. Yet here they were, these frail little things, so full of life and vitality and endless promise… Unrestrained in their joy for all that they were born into a time of horror and destruction. Symbolic of the world she had fought so long and hard for. A generation set to grow up in a world without the Calamity. A generation she and Link had saved.

As she looked on, one of Kass’s daughters offered a plate of grapes to Tulin, Teba’s son, who accepted it without second thought until one of the other little girls began wheedling them, making suggestive comments about secret crushes and undying love in that way that children do, to both of their embarrassment.

Before a fight could start out between sisters, Saki had already reached over to calm them, hushing the girls with a not-too-stern reprimand before distracting them from the previous topic by stealing a handful of the grapes from her son’s plate, eliciting a squawk of displeasure from the boy and a wave of childish giggles from the girls.

As she straightened up, she caught Zelda’s eye and winked, earning a friendly smile from the princess in return.

She liked Saki quite a bit. She’d been surprised to learn that Teba, the Rito Link had suggested take up the mantle of Vah Medo’s newest pilot, had not only been married but had a son. She’d expected added resistance to her call because of this, but Teba had shown none of the reluctance that Sidon and Yunobo displayed, accepting her request with a steadiness and practicality that left Zelda somewhat in awe.

Though gruff and perhaps a tad reticent, there was an undeniable aura of steadfastness about him that instantly made Zelda feel as though she could rely on him. Saki had been beside herself with pride, and little Tulin had just about worn his vocal cords out shouting the news with unrestrained excitement to the entire village, to his father’s exasperation.

While Teba and Harth had joined the others in gathering supplies for the feast, Link and Zelda had spent most of the day assisting Saki and the others in cooking the food. The afternoon had flown by as the two women conversed; though a few years older, Saki never fell into that habit of talking down to Zelda like older women often did (at least, when they didn’t know she was the princess), and she treated her with a familiar sort of fondness, almost as if she were a younger sister, something Urbosa used to do that Zelda had secretly loved, having no actual siblings of her own.

Before long, day had turned to night and the celebration had started. Zelda had been hard-pressed to say whether the afternoon had been a success or not; she’d introduced herself to the people after a fashion, but none of them seemed to really grasp who she was and what her return meant for the future of Hyrule.

On the other hand, Teba had accepted his role as the new Champion, and Link must have returned the Great Eagle Bow at some point, because it sat reclining against the wall behind the Rito warrior as they ate, so they had managed to accomplish at least half of what they needed to. That, and they still had tomorrow morning before they set off towards Gerudo Town to make a more complete, professional connection to Elder Kaneli, the aged, scatter-brained leader of Rito Village.

Perhaps, for the time being, she ought to allow herself to settle back on her floor cushion and enjoy the feast. Rare were the opportunities to forge bonds of friendship with her people like this, and judging from the deference of the citizens, Teba seemed primed to take over as Elder once Kaneli passed on. Strengthening her relationship to him and Saki would be paramount for her dealings with the village moving forwards. That, and… she simply wanted to get to know them better.

A nudge from Link brought her out of her silent reverie. She met his gaze with a curious one of her own, noting the goblet of wine he was extending to her, an easy smile on his face.

“You’re being awfully quiet, Princess.” He remarked softly, the casualness of his tone obscuring the obvious hidden question of ‘How in the world am I talking more than you?’

Or maybe he hadn’t intended that, and she was fabricating it all in her mind. She’d already drunken more wine that day than she had in over a century, and she was worried that if she drank too much more she’d begin to lose control of herself, which was bad for multiple reasons, not the least of which being that she needed to keep a calm, professional attitude in front of her people as was befitting of her station. Also, there was a small part of her that was terrified of what she might do or say to Link if she allowed herself to consume more wine than was proper.

The thought of a drunken confession of love in front of all of these people had her insides knotting up in a painfully nauseous sort of way. She repressed the urge to shudder. No, no, no sense in dwelling over things that won’t ever happen… still, just to be certain, she should probably not drink anymore wine tonight.

She accepted the cup from him anyway, deciding that she could merely hold it to her lips and pretend to drink if it made her seem like she was participating more. Link smirked at her, his cheeks already a little rosy though he seemed to still be in control of his faculties. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found herself wondering exactly how high Link’s tolerance was, and what he would be like if he were to become inebriated. Hmm, now there was something she would like to see… Perhaps another experiment was in order…

A sudden disturbance broke though the constant babble of conversation throughout the room. Kass the traveling minstrel had risen to his feet from his position on Link’s right. Zelda still wasn’t quite certain how it was that a traveling musician had earned himself a spot in the room. Not that she disliked him or anything, quite the contrary, but it was odd that he commanded as much respect as he did considering his profession, and there was an amiability between him and her Hero that spoke of a lengthy friendship for all that she had no idea who he was before today. Clearly there were more things for Link to tell her about his journey.

As Kass rose, he reached around behind him to gather up his accordion before turning to face Zelda and the village Elder.

“Your Highness,” Kass began, offering her a formal bow that caught her off-guard. The form was suitable for the Royal Court. Perhaps not all of the Rito had forgotten how to behave in front of royalty… “Elder Kaneli, Champion Link, Champion Teba… On this most auspicious night, as we gather together to celebrate the end of a century of fear and darkness and the promise of a bright, new dawn for our people, I wonder if you’d allow me to mark this grand occasion with a song?”

There was a murmur of excited agreement among the adults as Kass’s daughters let out an explosion of animated cheers and shouts. Zelda found herself nodding along politely as the others tripped over themselves to agree; he had a very distinct, professional way of speaking, and she hadn’t heard a proper bard play in a very long time. Even if Kass wasn’t as good as what she’d become accustomed to in the castle, any sort of music would always be welcome. She wondered what sort of song he might sing, and whether it was one that she already knew…

“You honor me, Princess,” Kass intoned, bowing again once it became clear that nobody was opposed to his proposition. “In that case, allow me to play a very special song for you… A song, Your Highness, that I need you to hear. One that was composed shortly after the Calamity fell across Hyrule, one that was written especially for you and our Hero, Link. One created by my teacher.”

Curiosity stole over Zelda. A song, written especially for her and Link? Well, that wasn’t that surprising; she had learned shortly after being rescued from the castle that tales of her and Link had become legends in and of themselves. That somebody chose to compose a song for them in the wake of the Calamity wasn’t that hard to believe. But what would it sound like? And… wouldn’t that be somewhat embarrassing?

“My teacher,” Kass continued, his voice taking on the sonorous quality of an experienced performer, “was a Sheikah, a renowned bard, and the Court Poet in the days before the Calamity struck.”

Zelda blinked. Court Poet?

“Yes, Highness,” he continued, turning to give Zelda an understanding look as though answering an unspoken question of hers, which left her momentarily stymied because she had no idea where he was going with this, “I can see in your eyes that I need not even utter his name; surely you know of whom I speak.”

Zelda half-opened her mouth, then closed it with a frown. Actually… no, she had no idea who he was talking about. Court Poet? Had they even had a Court Poet? She couldn’t remember… Then again, she hadn’t spent a whole lot of time in the castle during those last few months; perhaps he had been assigned sometime while she was away with Link journeying towards the springs. Or perhaps he’d been there the whole time and she’d simply never paid him any mind. Poetry had never really been one of her key interests…

“My teacher was a youth in those days, of age with our beloved Princess,” Kass continued, clearly not seeing the befuddlement in Zelda’s eyes, “and as can no doubt be understood, he was overcome by her sheer beauty and grace. Before he knew what had happened, and even knowing that he was doomed from the start, he’d fallen completely in love with her.”

Zelda’s spine stiffened and her cheeks flushed scarlet. Thankfully, nobody was looking at her, all eyes focused intently upon their story-teller who held his audience spell-bound. Nevertheless, awkwardness and mortification surged throughout her body.

Some boy she’d never heard of had apparently developed a secret crush on her back before the Calamity and had written her a song, only for it to have survived for over a hundred years and developed into some grand epic of love and loss? And Kass was going to sing it to her in front of all these people?!

Perhaps it was better to simply suck it up and remain quiet… Sure, she’d had strangers praise her for her alleged ‘beauty’ in the past; lords and nobles and foreign dignitaries and the like, but they had always felt less like earnest compliments and more like political maneuverings, so she’d never taken them seriously. Having some youth write a song because he was in love with you was a great deal more personal; particularly when said song had apparently survived the apocalypse.

Amali caught Zelda’s eye and seemed to notice the discomfited expression that she was clearly failing to reign in, because the older woman flashed her a playful, teasing wink, which only served to make Zelda’s discomfort grow. Oh, couldn’t Kass just sing his silly song and get this over already?!

Unfortunately, Kass was a man dedicated to his craft, and apparently wasn’t done with his opening oration.

“My teacher’s love would forever remain unrequited, however,” the large Rito intoned sadly, his voice adopting a wistfully tragic quality, “because our princess had eyes only for her own escort- her knight attendant, Link, the Hero of Hyrule.”

Zelda’s blood turned to ice in her veins, and she was gripped by a powerful wave of sudden, abject horror. In her shock over Kass’s surprise announcement, it took her a second to realize that her hand had listed to the side and she was spilling wine all over the floor.

“My teacher was consumed with jealousy,” Kass went on, heedless of the flustered look on Zelda’s face as she struggled to find a way to clean up the spilled beverage without drawing any more attention to herself, “and then… the Calamity struck.”

In her haste to find something to mop of the wine, she set her half-empty goblet down atop of a platter of sliced ham by mistake. The unlevel base caused the cup to topple over, spilling the rest of her beverage on top of the now-ruined meat. She wanted to melt into the ground and die right there. Everyone was looking at her now, even Link, though Kass was still consumed with his narration.

Across from her, Saki offered her a cloth napkin, which Zelda accepted with a grateful smile… only to blanch at the shrewd look the older woman was giving her. At her side, Teba had adorned himself with a hideous, knowing smirk. Even Harth was staring at her like he couldn’t believe how obvious she was being.

Oh Goddess… They knew… They all knew…

In her moment of despair, she cast her eyes reluctantly towards Link, feeling her heart exploding against her ribcage. How was he reacting? Not only to Kass’s sudden declaration that she was apparently (and accurately) madly in love with him, but to the fact that she’d basically confirmed it with her immature reaction?

As soon as her eyes landed on him, her body stiffened in horror. He was close, far closer than he ought to have been, his eyes locked on her, his face moving in closer, his eyes unreadable…

“Are you ok?” He murmured in her ear, not noticing the way her entire body locked up as he reached out to take the rag from her, hurriedly sopping up the spilled wine before the puddle grew any larger. “You’re not usually this clumsy… How much of that wine did you drink?”

Normally, Zelda could have attacked that comment from several directions, foremost being that he’d called her clumsy and that he’d implied that she’d been this clumsy before. And who was he to talk about over-indulging in wine?! He was the one who kept giving it to her!

There wasn’t time to dwell on that, however; at the moment, she was a little distracted by the fact that Kass had just announced to everyone in the room that she was in love with Link, and while she was acting like a twelve-year-old who’d been caught pilfering plums from the neighbor’s yard, Link hardly seemed to notice at all. How?! How was he not affected by this?! Could he not feel the way everyone in the room was staring at them?! Or at least what felt like everybody in the room; it was likely only Teba, Harth, and Saki, but that wasn’t making Zelda feel any less harassed.

Beside them, Kass finally began to sing and play his accordion. The melody was catchy, but Zelda wasn’t paying any attention to the lyrics, consumed as she was by her desperate need to clean up her mess and avoid making eye-contact with Link or the adults, lest her embarrassment cause her to spontaneously combust.

Snatching up another napkin, Zelda hastened to help Link sponge up the wine out of Elder Kaneli’s rug before the stain became even worse than it already was. Hylia above, so much for making a good first impression…

Sooner than she thought ought to have been possible, the sound of thunderous applause met Zelda’s ears. Kass had stopped playing. In her haste to clean up the mess, she’d missed the entire thing. That was disappointing, but at least it looked as though they’d managed to clean up most of the wine… though that stain probably wasn’t coming out.

“Princess,” Kass spoke up as soon as the cheering began settling down, “what do you think of my teacher’s work?”

Zelda gaped up at him blankly, caught momentarily off-guard. She was not mentally prepared for this right now…!

“It was… lovely. Yes. Positively breathtaking. I should think that you could find yourself in the position of Court Poet as well if you desired it, once the kingdom has been restored of course.”

There. A perfectly polite response. Not bad for being completely on the spot. Hopefully nobody paid any mind to the sopping napkin she was trying to hide in her hand.

Amali was beaming up at her husband, who seemed flushed with pride at Zelda’s compliment, but her thoughts were still tangled up in Link and the fact that Teba and Saki were still smirking at her like she was their twitter-pated daughter with her first crush on a boy.

“I don’t suppose,” Kass went on as he carefully sat back down, nearly prompting an exasperated groan from Zelda who was certainly not in the mood for further conversation at the present, “if you might indulge me for just a moment. I have often wished to speak with you about my teacher, about the sort of man he was in his youth. What do you remember most about him? What stands out in your mind, after all of these years?”

Zelda could only stare. What stood out to her? Nothing. Literally nothing. Not even his name, or his face; to be perfectly frank, she was still calling into question the matter of his very existence.

But she couldn’t tell Kass that, not after he’d gone out of his way to sing that lovely song for her (or… what she assumed had been a lovely song; she hadn’t exactly been paying attention). To admit in this moment that she had no idea who he was would be terribly rude and would likely offend Kass and his family… but she still had to say something!

She found herself scanning the group around them as she wracked her brains for some sort of suitably vague yet believable answer. Amali was examining her in earnest curiosity, clearly intrigued to know more about the man who had so inspired her husband. The children all seemed to have given up on the conversation and returned to their own little world, tossing wildberries into each other’s mouths, laughing whenever they missed and accidentally smacked one another in the face. Teba and Saki were still staring at her, though the teasing smirks seemed to have at last finally worn off; they too seemed equally intrigued by Kass’s question. Harth was no longer paying attention, having drawn his bow over from against the wall so as to begin fiddling with it as was his hobby, and Elder Kaneli… Well, Elder Kaneli was asleep.

That only left Link, who to her surprise was grinning over at her with poorly constrained amusement.

The realization clicked in her head. That monster… He knew she had no idea who the poet was, and he was mocking her! What was wrong with that man?! Why wasn’t he trying to save her?! Wasn’t that his job?!

“W-well,” she began, having realized that she’d been quiet for too long; she cast Link a furtive, scathing glare as though to rebuke him for leaving her stranded in such an un-knightly manner, though his only reaction was to hide his chuckle behind an exaggerated cough, burying his face in his goblet. “He was a very talented… person. My father used to love to hear him perform. He would always call for him on feast days and the like, or when we were entertaining foreign dignitaries. He… sometimes seemed rather shy when he performed, but…”

Oh, Goddess, what if she was being too specific? Kass knew more about his teacher than Zelda did; she needed to be more vague!

“B-but I must confess, I… I never got the chance to get to know him very well. Much of my time was dedicated toward preparing against the Calamity, and so… Perhaps Link can tell you more than I!”

Ha! Take that, you good-for-nothing Hero! How do you like being the center of attention?

Link shrugged, an easy-going smile on his face that betrayed the look of pure, sadistic evil glowing in his eyes.

“That would be difficult, Princess, considering how the Shrine of Resurrection has robbed me of nearly all of my memories from before the Calamity. I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t remember our honorable poet whatsoever.”

Surprised looks flashed across the faces around them, though Zelda hardly noticed given the murderous glare she was currently shooting her knight. How dare he deflect the attack so easily?!

“Is that true, Link?” Teba spoke up, looking taken-aback.

Link gave a curt nod.

“Yes. Though, with the help of our Princess and Impa of the Sheikah, I have slowly begun to recall bits and pieces of my past. In any event, it’s not a major inconvenience; I can still protect Her Highness and Hyrule without all of my memories.”

An odd sort of somberness stole over the meal as news of Link’s condition was met with shock and sorrow by his newfound Rito friends. Just as the familiar pangs of guilt began welling up inside of Zelda, the awkwardness of their previous situation finally beginning to vanish, Link decided to redirect the conversation with a faux-casual, “But anyway, I’m certain that our Princess must have more to tell us about Kass’s teacher than she’s letting on. After all, he was absolutely besotted with her, enough to have composed that beautiful song; I’m sure there’s a heartwarming story there of lingering glances and childish romance just waiting to be told.”

Zelda had to bite her lip to stop herself from shrieking. Link, you…! You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach! Just when the topic had changed and she’d found her out, he forced the spotlight back on her! This was mutiny! Treason! Rebellion of the highest caliber! She ought to order him thrown in the stockade!

Her fists clenched in a poor attempt to restrain her anger, she turned her falsely-cheery smile on her still-grinning Hero and said, as sweetly as she could manage through her gritted teeth, “I’m certain that our Court Poet was a lovely, talented young man, but I’m afraid that with everything that was going on in those days, my memories tend to get a bit clouded, what with preparations for the Calamity and all of the traveling I did with Link and the other Champions.

“Besides which,” she added with a bit more bite, “a princess tends to be on the receiving end of numerous secret admirers. I can’t be expected to remember everything about every boy who has ever had a crush on me.”

Link let out a chuckle, shrugging his shoulders as though conceding to her point.

“Fair enough. Granted, I don’t really remember much about that, but I’ll take your word for it. Still, I can’t help but feel like he gave up too early. Maybe this is just my lack of experience talking, but I wonder if Kass’s teacher would have had a bit more luck if he’d actually fessed up to Zelda in person rather than through song a century after the fact. What’s the point in being in love with someone if you’re not going to tell them about it to their face?”

The fact that Link had slipped up in front of others and used her name barely even registered in Zelda’s mind. His words seemed for a moment partially directed at her. What was the point in being in love if she wasn’t going to tell him to his face…?

Another interpretation flashed through her mind. If Link really felt that way about romance, then… was she to interpret this as Link not being in love with her because he hadn’t told her that he was? Were her hopes of him possibly reciprocating her feelings already dashed, or was she reading too much into this?

Something inside of her seemed to plummet. She knew deep down that she was being silly, but… it was hard to maintain optimism when the object of her affection made such bold statements like that in public.

Across from them, Teba spoke up once again.

“How can you say that with such conviction? Have you ever been in love before? Would you even remember what it was like?”

There was an air of challenge in his words that caught Zelda somewhat off-guard. At his side, Saki flashed her a sad, understanding smile. So she had heard the underlining meaning in his words too…

Link blinked, surprised by Teba’s response, then nodded slowly.

“…You’re right. I don’t remember if I’ve ever been in love before. For all I know, I could have been the same way.”

“It takes a different sort of courage to open yourself up to someone like that than it does to face a monster.” The Rito Champion intoned sagely, taking a long sip from his wine.

“Which is why I was the one who had to make the first move,” Saki chimed in light-heartedly. “Otherwise we still wouldn’t be together. He seems all tough bravado on the outside, but when it comes to emotions, my Teba might as well be as timid as a cucco.”

Teba choked on his wine, spluttering in indignation as Saki and the others laughed at his expense. Link laughed along with them. Zelda, however, struggled to work up a smile. Saki’s eyes were on her, understanding, encouraging, but Zelda knew it was going to be a while before she managed to work herself back up again.

The feast ended not long thereafter, and while Amali herded the children off to bed and Kass and Teba struggled to get Kaneli into his sleeping chamber (Harth had seemingly vanished without a trace at some point after Kass’s song), Link escorted Zelda down to the inn where they would be spending the night.

Zelda’s mood had taken a turn for the worse, and she hadn’t said a word to Link since leaving the dinner, her thoughts tangled up in possible interpretations of Link’s declaration and searching for loopholes to cheer herself up.

If Link noticed, he didn’t let it on. As soon as they’d drawn out of earshot, a wide, teasing grin split its way across his face and he turned to her as they descended the stairs, his eyes glowing with mischief, and declared pompously, “…You have no idea who the Court Poet was, do you?”

Zelda stared, dumbfounded. He had no idea… Teba and Saki, who had only just met her, could tell the moment they saw her face, but he had no idea, none at all, that she was hopelessly in love with him.

Relief poured over her, tinged slightly with disappointment; that comment can’t have been made for her, then. He was so clueless… Praise Hylia above…

“No.” She replied softly, taking a moment to swallow the lump of fear in her throat back down. “Do you remember him?”

Link rolled his eyes, his taunting grin still on his face. “Zelda, I don’t remember anything. How in the world am I supposed to remember some random poet who had a crush on you?”

She sighed, aggravated, and continued on down the path towards the inn, Link trailing along behind her.

“Well, considering how it was your job to keep me safe, I would assume that you would have been well aware of any male who was becoming too attached to me. It’s probable that you at least knew of him.”

Link hummed in noncommittal agreement, but said no more on the subject. A relatively peaceful silence descended upon them, heavy with the promise of much-needed sleep after dining upon such heavy foods.

Before Zelda realized what she was doing, she spoke again.

“Did you really mean what you said back there, about confessing to the person you love?”

As soon as the words left her lips, she wanted to reach out and grab them and shove them back in her mouth. Why had she said that?! The topic had finally died! Why was she constantly getting in her own way?!

Link shrugged uncomfortably, his gaze locked on the quarter-moon overhead.

“I suppose I do… I mean, I know that, without my memories, my opinions on all of this aren’t necessarily as valid as, say, yours are, but… If you’re in love with someone, and you never tell them, then if by the end of the day you find yourself alone, the blame for that can only be leveled at yourself. It’s the same as everything else; inaction gets you nowhere. I never could have gotten you out of that castle if I’d stayed on the Plateau where it was relatively safe. I had to take action. I don’t see why love would be any different.”

Zelda’s shoulders had stiffened, hunching forward slightly as though defending against a series of blows. He was right… He was so right. She could only blame herself for her own suffering. She needed to take action… but even knowing that, even knowing that she could never expect to find her happy ending if she didn’t act, that didn’t make confessing her feelings to him any less terrifying.

“But you know,” Link spoke up again, his gentle voice jarring through her thoughts, “I suppose I can’t be too harsh on your poet. I mean… It isn’t the same thing when you’re in love with a princess.”

Zelda’s heart stopped beating. Link’s tone had taken on a quiet, almost wistful tone, and with his eyes still locked onto the sky it was almost as if he were addressing his thoughts to the moon.

“Let’s just be honest here. Even if he had worked up the courage to tell you… Even if you had somehow, miraculously, returned his feelings… how was that going to end? Princesses don’t marry below their station. Not Court Bards, or servants, or farmers, or royal knights… Had he told you the truth, even the best-case scenario would have been him watching you wed another and knowing he’d have never been good enough. In the end, maybe staying quiet was the right move. At least then he could remain in the castle and love you from afar.”

Zelda had stopped walking. Link had as well. The two were staring at each other in silence on the landing in front of the Rito Village Inn. Zelda’s heart was hammering in her chest, her eyes wide, her hands shaking. In the half-light of the waxing moon, Link’s expression was nearly impossible to make out…

Suddenly he laughed, his awkward chuckle, free hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his head.

“Sorry. Talking about people being secretly in love with you probably makes you pretty uncomfortable. Let’s drop it and get some sleep, huh? We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow if we want to make it to Gerudo Town before the end of the week.”

Wordless, Zelda followed him into the inn. The innkeeper hadn’t returned from whatever branch of the celebration they’d been participating in, but Link had already paid their fee that morning, so the duo entered the quiet building and set about preparing themselves for bed in complete silence.

As she washed her face and scrubbed her teeth, Zelda’s thoughts were caught up in a whirlwind, repeating everything Link had told her over and over and over again until she was dizzy.

What had that all meant? Was it just meaningless chatter? Late-night rambling after drinking too much wine? Was she wasting her time worrying about nothing? He looked so calm now, so at ease, so normal… there was no way he could have possibly been speaking from experience… right? No way that he could… that he possibly…

As they settled down in their respective beds, all thoughts of sleepiness and exhaustion were lost on Zelda, replaced instead by the constant echoing of Link’s words replaying over and over in her head.

Take action… She needed to take action, or nothing would ever change… Yet she was so frightened… But if she sat back and did nothing, then at the end of the day, she had no one to blame but herself…

Her heart was in her throat. He was right there… it would be so easy. So easy to just open up her mouth and say it. Just say it. Say it.

“Link.”

It took her a moment to realize she’d actually spoken his name aloud and not just in her head. Across from her, she could see her hero sit up in his cot and turn to face her, though his expression was lost to the darkness.

When another moment passed without her speaking, Link cleared his throat and asked, somewhat hesitantly, “Er… Zelda? Did you say something?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. Her heart was thundering like race horses in her chest. She could just stay quiet and pretend she hadn’t said anything… Link would just lay back down and go to sleep, and he’d likely forget all about this by morning…

No… No, she needed to take action. She couldn’t afford to let herself remain stagnant, like the poet. Doomed to let her love for her Hero go unrequited and unspoken, sung of by strangers in some distant age, some paltry tale of regret and love-lost. Just like the Silent Princess.

“I just… I wanted you to know, that…” Oh Goddess Hylia above, give her strength… “I don’t… I mean, I’m not…”

The words were jumbling around in her head. Frustrated with herself, she gathered up her blankets in her hands and willed herself to calm down, taking a long, steady breath.

“You said earlier that, even had the poet worked up the courage to tell me how he felt, that any relationship would be doomed to fail because he wasn’t ‘worthy’ of me.”

“Yes…” Link said slowly, clearly not understanding where she was going with this. “I didn’t mean that as though you were too stuck-up for him, Zelda; I simply meant that, as the princess of Hyrule, there are certain requirements regarding the caliber of the man who would court you-”

“You are not the one who decides who it is who may or may not ‘court’ me, Link.” She replied, a little harsher than she’d intended.

“I-I’m sorry, Princess,” Link replied, clearly confused as to how he’d upset her and hastily striving to make peace, “I didn’t mean to imply that I-”

“It’s fine.” She cut in gently, eager not to let the conversation get sidetracked. She’d decided on what she wanted to say, and she was going to say it, no matter what. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded either; your opinion is very important to me, you know that. But what I need you to understand is this:

“No matter what laws might have existed in Hyrule, no matter what tradition states is acceptable, the only one who gets to decide whom I may or may not give my heart to is me, and I have but one requirement for the man that I will one day marry. He needs to love me. Me as in Zelda, the woman, not the princess, not the future queen, not the ruler or the inheritor of the Bloodline of the Goddess or the ‘legend’. When he looks at me, he needs to see the real me before he sees any of that. That is all that I can ask of any man.

“That I am the princess is something that cannot be ignored or avoided, and it isn’t something that I want to avoid, not anymore, but… When it comes to matters of my heart, I feel I’ve earned the right to be selfish just this once. When I become queen, when Hyrule is restored, I will need to wed in order to carry on the sacred Bloodline of the Goddess, and when I do, I will wed whomever I choose; the status of their birth or their individual wealth will be irrelevant. I will choose the man I love, the man who loves me. The man who sees me as Zelda.”

There was more she wanted to say, of course; that she would absolutely be making sure that her future husband would be well-received by her people, that he be up to the task of being her consort, that he not be the type to be consumed by greed or the lust for power and that he be the sort of man who was secure enough to live in the shadow of his wife, not because she wanted him to be there but because that was the inevitable fate of any who would marry the queen.

However, none of that needed to be said. Link would have to trust that Zelda wasn’t fool enough to marry a man who would be bad for Hyrule, and in any event, Link fulfilled all of the above requirements. The only one who didn’t realize that yet was him.

“…I just wanted you to know.” She finished softly.

There was a moment of silence, and when it became clear that Link wasn’t going to say anything, Zelda decided that was enough for the time being. They really did need to get some sleep.

Rolling onto her side, Zelda closed her eyes and allowed the distant sounds of laughter echoing throughout the village lull her into a surprisingly easy slumber. She felt lighter now than she had in a while. She’d taken action today. Perhaps she hadn’t worked up the courage to fully confess to him yet, but now he knew where she stood on who was and was not ‘eligible’ to be her lover. With any luck, he’d figure out for himself that he was definitely on that list, and it would make her confession go a little smoother. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel nearly as anxious about the prospect of that confession as she had before.

In the comforting darkness of the Rito Village Inn, surrounded by the sound of the wind and distant laughter, with her Hero close at hand, her surroundings so unlike her imprisonment in the castle for the last century, the Princess of Hyrule fell asleep with an easy smile on her lips.

Across the room, the Hero lay awake late into the night, staring at the moon through the open window.


	13. Life in Ruins

The skies above the ruins of Sanidin Park were alive with all the golds and reds and oranges that heralded the end of another day.

Behind the weathered statue of a legendary steed (the one for whom he’d named his very own horse, Epona; loyal partner to the mythical Hero of Time) Link had tied his and Zelda’s mounts as well as their packhorse up to the few remaining horse hitches, leaving enough line for them to wander about and graze a bit without needed to worry that they’d run off.

He’d planned to stay the night here almost as soon as they’d begun mapping out the route they’d have to travel to visit all of Hyrule’s major settlements; both because it was the perfect spot to set up camp, yes, what with its natural supply of water, clear, open spaces, and high-ground to spot any would-be approaching hordes of monsters, but there was another reason Link had wanted to visit.

Of the few memories he’d reclaimed of his past, one of them had been centered around this very park and a trip he’d made here with Zelda, shortly before the Calamity had broken free. They had spoken of horses, he remembered, but they’d also spoken of the weight of obligation and Zelda’s constant struggles against the hopelessness that threatened to consume her.

He didn’t know if Zelda remembered that day; nothing about it seemed particularly ‘memorable’ to Link, but the fact that he had remembered it at all made the whole place feel special to him. He’d been rather excited to set up camp once the duo had arrived after a hard day’s ride from Rito Village. His excitement hadn’t lasted very long, however.

Zelda had been unusually quiet since arriving here at the park. At first Link thought he had made a mistake in choosing this location to camp; perhaps she had, in fact, remembered their conversation here over a century ago, and was dredging up old feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy from her past. He hadn’t known how to combat that at first, and was content to let her have some time to herself while he cooked their supper. However, they then passed their meal in absolute silence, and after that he set about cleaning up after them, all without uttering a word.

Silence was normal. Silence was comfortable. Silence was something Link could get behind. At least… when he was the one being silent. Zelda, however, was never silent, and the fact that she was now was more than a little unnerving.

Which is how Link found himself joining her after dinner, the two of them leaning up against the railing overlooking the western half of the vast fields of Central Hyrule. The view was breathtaking. To the right, the ruins of the Coliseum stood out stark and foreboding. The distant peaks of Mount Lanayru blocked off their view of the horizon, alongside several other notable rock formations; the Dueling Peaks, the plateau that held the remains of Akkala Citadel, Death Mountain… and there, over to the left, sat the desolate husk of the once-great Hyrule Castle.

Now that he was this close to her, there was no doubt what the source of her dour mood was. Her sad, viridian eyes remained glued to the crumbling edifice that had once been her home. She was so focused, in fact, that Link wasn’t even certain she’d heard him approach.

Deciding she needed some sort of distraction, Link cleared his throat briefly and said, vying for a light, carefree tone, “Do you know why it is that I wanted to camp here for the night?”

He half-expected her to jump or start at the way that he suddenly broke her melancholic silence, but she hardly reacted at all. Turning her gaze away from the castle, eyes absently sweeping the plains, she replied, somewhat robotically, “Because it is on the path we needed to take, and provides easy access to fresh water.”

“Well, yes,” he conceded, “but there’s another reason.”

When she didn’t reply, he continued, somewhat more hesitantly.

“Do you remember the last time we were here?”

There was a pause, and a far-away look seemed to enter her eyes, as if she were seeing something no one else could.

“…Yes. It was shortly before my seventeenth birthday, not long after we’d visited the Spring of Power. We spoke of horses, I believe… I should thank you again for all that you taught me in those days. And then after, I told you we would be journeying to Mount Lanayru and the Spring of Wisdom… It was to be my last chance at receiving the Divine Sealing Power, or so I thought at the time… Looking back now, I suppose in the end it was only wasted effort. So much lost…”

Link wanted to smack himself in the face. There he was trying to distract her from her bad mood, and all he managed to do was make it worse!

“Zelda…”

“Do you remember, Link?” Zelda cut in, her voice dull and listless even as she flipped the questioning back onto him. “Once, these fields were alive. Once, towns and farms and travelers dotted the landscape in every direction. Today, you can travel the roads from sunup ‘til dusk and see nary a soul, but in those days, that was unthinkable. When Hyrule was at its peak, the roads saw constant traffic, be they travelers or peddlers, tradesmen or royal guards patrolling for monsters or bandits…

“Hyrule now isn’t even a shadow of its former glory. Nothing remains but the bones of my kingdom. Skeletal buildings everywhere you look, haunted by the ghosts of men who once walked their halls, the laughter of children who once played in their fields… My people. Killed, because I couldn’t do the one things I was supposed to…”

“Zelda.” Link said again, this time more firmly, “Stop that. You know that isn’t fair.”

She let out a weak laugh, lifting a free hand to rub at her eyes.

“I know… You’ve told me that, time and time again now. And even though I agree, and even though I strengthen my resolve to put the past behind me and move forward, whenever we stumble across the ruins of another village or the crumbled remains of some new farm or guard station, I… I-I just can’t…”

Link sighed, turning his attention back to the distant countryside as Zelda struggled to keep her emotions in check.

This had been an ongoing problem since he’d finally rescued her from the castle. Every now and again, usually when they were in the middle of their journeys between settlements, when she was far from contact with people other than Link, she would let herself get sucked back into that pit of despair and guilt that had been festering within her for the last one-hundred years… no, longer than that probably. This cycle of self-loathing for her own perceived faults and inadequacies had begun before the Calamity, before he’d even been named her knight. And the worst part was, he didn’t know how to help her.

He couldn’t stand seeing Zelda in pain like this. He wanted to fix her problems. He wanted to take all of her suffering away. Only… that wasn’t how this worked. The Calamity, the destruction of Hyrule, the deaths of their friends and families and countless innocent civilians… none of that could be ‘fixed’. It could only be accepted. And once that was done, they could finally begin to move on. If only Zelda could see that…

Deciding that he had to try to do something, Link mustered up his courage, offered a silent prayer to the Goddess for help, and then dove in. Gesturing to some ruins a little ways off in the distance, he asked, “Look over there, Zelda. What do you see?”

“Destruction.” She replied promptly, her tone as dull and lifeless as her eyes had become. “Loss. The price of my failures, the pain of it all. Death.”

Link shook his head.

“I see life in those ruins.”

She stared at him, clearly unimpressed, and he hurried on.

“Look; it’s all a mess of green from so far away, but you can tell that grass had long-since overtaken the scars and desolation of the Calamity. The forests are steadily repopulating with trees, flowers spring up amidst the rubble of crumbled buildings… Everywhere you look, even in starkest of ruins, there is life.”

“People aren’t plants, Link.” Zelda replied, a sardonic tint to her voice, and Link couldn’t help but grin.

“No. And thank the Goddess for that. But that doesn’t mean that people have nothing to learn from plants. Think about it; Hyrule is like… a farm.”

“A farm.” Zelda deadpanned, stone-faced, and Link hurried on.

“Yes. A farm. The farmer is responsible for looking after the farm, right? Well, one day, the farmer could tell a storm was coming, a bad storm, and though he did his best to protect his crop, he couldn’t stop the lightning from striking and burning his field to the ground, or the winds from tearing apart his barn. In one moment, everything the farmer had worked for was just… gone. And the storm was so bad, it drove the farmer out, leaving the fields barren and untended for years.”

“Link.”

There was an edge of impatience in Zelda’s tone that made Link momentarily fearful for his life.

“I’m getting there- I’m not very good with metaphors or allegories or whatever you call them. I didn’t have all of the fancy schooling you had. Look, the point is- even with the farmer gone, life still moves on. The fields burned down, but eventually, new plants will begin to grow in their stead. And when the farmer comes back, he isn’t going to waste time mourning over what he’s lost, because he knows it’s gone and there are new plants that need his attention now.”

There was a moment in which he and Zelda simply stared at each other in silence.

“…I’m still confused.” Zelda finally confessed, prompting Link’s shoulders to drop with a groan.

“OK, fine, forget the metaphors. Zelda… we may have lost everything, but everything isn’t lost. There are still people living in Hyrule who need your help. It’s ok to mourn the people who’ve passed on, but you can’t let it consume you. You owe it to them, and to their descendants who are still living now, to build Hyrule anew. There’s so much hope for our future, and you are right at the center of it. So take that pain you’re feeling, your love for everything that’s gone, and use it. Use it to drive us all forward. Because I know that’s what they would have wanted.”

During Link’s little speech, he could see his princess being physically affected by his words. A few loose tears broke free from her eyes, painting lines down her cheeks. Her bottom lip was pinched between her teeth. Her eyes were locked on the ground.

Finally, after Link had finally stopped talking, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, her voice unsteady. “I know… I know I should be stronger than this, but I… I-it’s just… I want it all back. I want them all back so much, it hurts… And I know that that’s impossible and impractical and… and childish, but…”

She wiped unsteadily at her eyes, tearing her gaze away from Link’s once again, and in a small voice she whispered, “It feels so wrong that I should get this second chance at life, when I’m the reason they’re all gone.”

“You’re not.” Link replied emphatically. “You did everything you could. So did I. And in the end, we both failed… So let’s not fail them again.”

She nodded, but her face was hidden behind her hands as she struggled to quell the trembling in her limbs.

Link sighed, trying to find some words to say that might ease her suffering.

“Zelda… Zelda, look at me.”

It took her a moment, along with Link tugging gently at her arms, to get her to meet his gaze again. Her eyes were red and blotchy, her cheeks stained with tears.   

“The battle is over, the Calamity has ended, and everything you knew and loved is gone for good. And yeah, you can’t ever get it back, but… maybe we don’t have to.”

He surprised the both of them by brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger there on her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away her tears. Zelda’s eyes were wide and, flooded with tears though they might be, he’d never seen them look so green.

“The path in front of us may be long and uncertain,” he whispered, “but it leads to something new, and… Zelda, no matter how hard it gets, I’ll be right here. And I’ll walk with you.”

There was a moment of soft silence, with nothing but the sound of the wind gusting through the plains and the gentle whickering of the horses behind them. Then Zelda’s expression broke. Her brows knit together, her lips twisting in pain, and a moment later she’d flung herself into his arms, completely breaking down on his shoulder.

He caught her without a word, one arm tightening around her waist, holding her up, the other gently stroking her hair. He wasn’t certain what it was she was crying for; her lost father, the deaths of the Champions, the loss of her country, their inability to save it… all of the above, perhaps. This wasn’t the first time Zelda had cried since Link had drawn her out of the ruins of the castle, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Pains like the ones they’d suffered didn’t go away so easily as that, and it was likely that Zelda would endure them for the rest of her life. That was ok, though, because he would always be there, her shoulder to cry on, her silent support, her knight, her friend.

As she cried in his arms, Link’s mind drifted back to a similar scene, one-hundred years gone, of a Hero and a Princess sprinting pell-mell through the woods, running for their lives, hearts full of desperation and fear and sorrow, filthy with soot and mud. The pain of their loss had been fresh then, the magnitude not yet fully felt by the two exhausted, panicking teenagers.

Zelda had broken down in his arms then, too. And Link had held her while she cried, just as steady as he always was, as he always would be. Because he was her knight and it was his duty, yes. But also because she’d needed him and he could never bring himself to let her down.

He would do anything for her; listen to her endless babble about experiments and ancient Sheikah technology, give his life battling against an army of unstoppable Guardians, face down the Calamity itself, or even pretend to enjoy her horrific food. Her pain brought him pain; her joy brought him joy. Her smile lit up the world around him, and in her eyes Link could see the future he’d been fighting for. He stayed with her because… because…

Something lurched in Link’s chest and his eyes grew wide.

Oh Goddess…

He was in love with Zelda.


	14. Gerudo Town

Finally, after weeks of grueling travel across the vast Hyrulean countryside, occasional run-ins with monsters, and the newly added stress of struggling to find some way to confess her feelings to her knight-slash-bodyguard-slash-oblivious-bufoon-of-a-traveling-companion, this moment right here was enough to make all her suffering worth it.

A luxury massage at the hands of the most talented masseuse in Gerudo Town. Though she would be loath to admit something so shameful out loud, there was a very real part of her that exulted in this sort of treatment, the sort that a princess deserved…

As the strong, expert hands of the female masseuse went to town slathering scented oil over Zelda’s bare skin, gently kneading away one-hundred years of knots and soreness from her muscles with practiced movements, the princess of Hyrule could practically feel herself melting into goo.

The sheer euphoria she was currently experiencing was nearly enough to eclipse the stress and fatigue that usually consumed her. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d have sworn she’d passed on and her soul had ascended to the Sacred Realm.

As a matter of fact, she had made up her mind: she was never moving ever again. She would spend the remainder of her mortal days right here. The rest of the nation would simply have to learn to cope without her. After all, she’d done her part, had she not? She deserved a break.

With a luxurious sigh, she allowed herself a rueful smile at the unrealistic thought and, settling down more comfortably on the mat, drifted away into the realms of her imagination. Today had been simply perfect…

It really had been perfect, too. Truth be told, she hadn’t quite been looking forward to her meeting with the new Gerudo Chieftain for more reasons than one, foremost being that she loathed being in the desert what with its insufferable heat, lethal dryness and the fact that she hated all the sand (after all, it was rough and course and irritating, and it got _everywhere…_ ), but on top of that she was concerned that her time in Gerudo Town would only dredge up the sorrows she’d only just begun moving past over the loss of her old friends, the previous Champions. And of all the Champions, Urbosa had been the one Zelda had been closest to.

Oh, all of them had been very dear to her of course; close friends and allies during one of the most trying times in Zelda’s life, constantly supporting and encouraging her, always there to lend a hand or an ear. But Urbosa had been something special; almost a cross between an older sister and a surrogate mother, losing her had been harder than losing anyone else barring Link and her father. So even though she was eager to meet the girl who was to become the next Gerudo Champion (and the only other female of the group, it would seem…), she wasn’t exactly looking forward to coming to Gerudo Town itself, the place where she had spent so much time with Urbosa in the past, particularly when it became apparent that the Gerudo weren’t going to change their ways and allow Link to accompany her into the city.

She supposed she couldn’t fault them for adhering to their age-old tradition, but she’d half-expected Link to argue, demanding they observe his right to accompany her anywhere given his status both as her personal knight and as one of the Champions. He was usually quite adamant about staying by her side. She hadn’t expected anything as trivial as age-old traditions would keep him at bay.

Instead he’d merely nodded in understanding and, after handing off the Thunder Helm to a bemused Zelda (along with Urbosa’s scimitar and shield; they had weighed quite a bit more than she’d expected) had left his suddenly nervous and unsure princess in the hands of the Gerudo without even blinking, informing her that he’d be spending the day investigating the Yiga hideout to make sure there weren’t any plans to reform after the loss of their leader and that he’d be camping outside the walls that night.

His behavior was completely and alarmingly out of character.

The Gerudo hadn’t been very happy to hear they’d have a ‘voe’ so close to the walls, but Buliara, Captain of the Guard, had let it slide with a dismissive nod, silencing all opposition.

Almost before Zelda knew what was happening, she was being ushered along through the front gates, nearly missing Link’s oddly casual farewell as she was marched by the guards through the central market towards the palace where the Gerudo Chief awaited her.

Anxiety immediately began swelling up in her chest; this was the furthest she’d been from Link since he’d pulled her from her century-long imprisonment in the castle, save for one brief absence in Tarrey Town, but she had already been acclimated to the villagers, and it had only been for a couple of hours.

Sure, she wasn’t a child anymore and she didn’t need her knight with her all the time, but… well… she had become accustomed to his constant presence. She’d come to rely on it. And now he was gone without a fight. What was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he tried harder?! And now she had to meet the leader of the Gerudo without him there to smooth the introduction!

Too soon, she was in the Gerudo Palace, a guard was loudly announcing her arrival, and a moment later she was being presented before the Gerudo Chief.

When their eyes met, Zelda nearly lost her regal composure. The girl was so… young…

Makeela Riju, the leader of the Gerudo people and Link’s choice for the next and final Champion, can’t have been more than fourteen years of age. Link had apprised her of the girl’s age beforehand, of course, however… seeing her there on the throne, surrounded by all her powerful adult guards, only served to make the girl look even smaller than she actually was.

In spite of her age, however, the girl was unquestionably beautiful, with shapely legs and a face that looked to have been molded from porcelain. The languidness of her posture combined with the natural quirk of her lips gave her a sort of coy, seductive vibe that Zelda had often found typical of the Gerudo.

The princess did her best to adopt a queenly expression. Young though she may be, Riju was still the leader of the Gerudo people and Zelda would need to do her best to achieve positive diplomatic relations with the girl if she hoped to reunite Hyrule under her name. Thus far, the Zora, Goron, and Rito peoples had been amenable, but the Gerudo were well-known for their vibrant individuality and weren’t likely to follow some strange young Hylian ‘vai’ just because she claimed to be the long-lost princess of some old, forgotten kingdom.

The Gerudo had retained much of their culture through the Calamity, and to them, their chief was essentially a queen in her own right, though one of a notably smaller kingdom. Like the Zora, they remembered who they were, but like the Goron and Rito, had forgotten Hyrule as a kingdom. This wouldn’t be easy. She’d need to steel herself appropriately.

She expected a day full of intense, political maneuvering. Cold glances, veiled words, weighted deals and promises. Riju was young, yes, but she looked cunning and, unlike Zelda, had likely been raised with the best Gerudo tutors teaching her how to rule and reign; Zelda, on the other hand, had spent the last century locked up in a castle with a demon, so she was more than a little rusty, and even before that most of her time had been spent vainly seeking to unlock her Sealing Powers, not learning how to rally a ruined nation behind her. She was at a distinct disadvantage here, even more so because Link wasn’t here to help bridge the gap between leaders…

Her expectations were dashed to pieces, however, when the younger girl’s stoic expression suddenly broke into a smirk.

“You are the Princess of Hyrule, the one they call Zelda.”

Zelda nodded, feeling uncertain but desperate not to show it.

“And you are Makeela Riju, Chief of the Gerudo. Link has told me much about you. It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Indeed.” Riju mused, idly examining the Thunder Helm, Scimitar and Shield as they passed before her in the arms of some of her guards.

A moment later, she was on her feet. Her movements belied a dancer’s grace, something Zelda noted with no little annoyance.

“I understand you have come here not only to introduce yourself to me, but also to begin laying the groundwork for the rebuilding of Hyrule?”

“Indeed. The Calamity has finally ended, but there is much work that needs to be done before peace will truly be returned to our people. I believe that what we need now, more than anything, is unity.”

Something unspoken passed between them, the understanding that ‘unity’ implied being unified beneath Zelda, not Riju. For a moment, something flashed in the younger girl’s eyes. Was it challenge? Defiance? Either of those Zelda was prepared for.

She was not prepared for Riju to reply in a loud, carrying voice, “Then I declare this day a day of celebration! The Calamity has ended and our Princess has returned! Descendant of the Goddess, friend of Urbosa, we welcome you into our home!”

The guards let out a roar of approval, slamming the butts of their spears into the floor, making Zelda jump in surprise.

That was… unexpected. Not that they would celebrate; every village they had passed thus far had. No, what surprised her was Riju’s reaction to her presence. Where was the calculation she’d thought she’d seen in the younger girl’s eyes? Was this part of some larger plan?

“Let no unnecessary work be done this day.” Riju continued. “The Town Watch must stand guard, yes, but all others, return to your friends, your mothers, and let this day be a day of rest.

“As for you, Princess,” Riju’s moss-green eyes settled on Zelda, weighing, considering, “you must come with me. Buliara! Pick out a handful of guards. Today, we join our people.”

And just like that, Zelda found herself roped into accompanying Riju and a handful of bodyguards as they spent the bulk of the day wandering the narrow, excitable streets of Gerudo Town amidst the throng of celebrators.

It had been a little hectic, at first. Normally when Zelda had visited a settlement she was immediately drawn into a lengthy conversation with the leader. Though Link had missed the finer points of most of these meetings, they usually had to do with Zelda assuring them that the reconstruction of Hyrule would not rob them of their autonomy over their people and that Zelda would act as a guiding force bringing the disparate peoples of Hyrule together under one banner rather than stealing power for herself.

True, the day would come when the Royal Family would have the power to issue commands that they would expect to be obeyed, but that day wouldn’t be any day soon, and even then, the leaders of the races were more or less free to act as they saw fit concerning their own people so long as it didn’t damage Hyrule as a whole or those who lived in it.

It was more complicated than all of that, of course, but Zelda tended to keep her explanations brief. King Dorephan hadn’t needed to be told, of course, but Bludo and Kaneli hadn’t been too keen to find some random teenage girl on their doorstep claiming she was back from the dead to rebuild a country and set herself above them. Shorter explanations would serve for now. They would need to have a summit with all the nation’s leaders to help solidify plans moving forward, and she could convince them then of the benefits of unifying.

She’s assumed Riju would be in the same boat as Bludo and Kaneli, lacking the long lifespans that the Zora and Sheikah had and the personal memories of the kingdom before the Calamity, and yet… Riju had hardly paused to comment on it, instead openly acknowledging Zelda as the princess and parading her around in front of her people.

Because that’s what was happening here, Zelda quickly realized. Oh, certainly, there was currently a celebration of sorts happening in the town, with the people mingling, drinking and laughing, playing games and dancing to music on the street corners, but it soon became apparent to Zelda that Riju was going out of her way to lead the princess around town to speak to as many people as possible. It was actually a lot of fun, when she could bring herself to stop trying to figure out Riju’s endgame and get drawn in to conversing with the citizens of Gerudo Town, but she couldn’t help the nagging worry that lingered on in the back of her mind.

They were an eclectic bunch, the Gerudo; free spirited children, crotchety old grandmothers, short-tempered soldiers, and eagers saleswomen seeking to make some money off the spur-of-the-moment festivities flooded the streets, talking and laughing and shouting and greeting Zelda and Riju with warm smiles and offers to stay and chat a while.

It was a completely different experience than the ones she’d had at the other settlements she’d visited. The Gerudo, she found, were like a happy-medium between the stuffy rules and expectations demanded of her among the Sheikah and Zora and the borderline indifference found with the Goron and Rito.

The Gerudo knew what she was; a leader, a woman of power and influence who commanded respect. But they also weren’t overly obsessed with propriety. They spoke to her in much the same way they used with Riju; polite and unafraid, always respectful but quick with a smile or a joke, and they also never seemed to put on that ‘façade’ that people usually adopted when around royalty.

Children rushed her, eager to meet the Hylian princess they’d heard of in legends, older women would greet her kindly in passing, warriors volunteered to serve as her bodyguard for a short while just for the chance to speak with her.

She felt much more at-ease here among the Gerudo than she had nearly anywhere else. The Zora made her feel like she was constantly under a microscope, the Rito made her feel forgotten, and the Goron… actually, she didn’t want to think about what happened while she was with the Goron. Memories of that hot spring debacle still made her cheeks flare up in morbid embarrassment.

Street vendors caught sight of her wandering down an alley with Riju and immediately set about trying to get her to accept free outfits as gifts, likely because they were hoping the other tourists would see the princess in their clothing and decide to buy some for themselves.

She turned them down politely, not wanting to accept anything without paying for it herself, but Riju must have noticed the way her eyes had lingered because before long she found herself with three new Gerudo outfits and even a tiara embedded with cooling sapphires, courtesy of a jeweler in the central plaza who claimed she owed Link a favor.

She felt bad for accepting them, but she was a little too distracted to let it affect her. The sheer vitality that thrived in Gerudo Town had infected her, and before long she had forgotten all about her duties, how she was supposed to be setting up political connections or figuring out what Riju was up to, instead sharing steaming meat pies with the young Gerudo Chief and laughing as the juices dripped down their chins, cheering Buliara on with a crowd of eager onlookers as the rugged Captain of the Guard downed an entire flagon of ‘Noble Pursuit’ in one go, and interacting with Rito, Hylian, and Sheikah women who just happened to be visiting the Gerudo settlement that day and were lucky enough to join in the celebration.

And there were a great many tourists here, too. Much more than she’d seen in other towns, save perhaps Tarrey (although honestly, that town had seemed to be inhabited solely by tourists).

There was a Rito trader who had seen Zelda in the village with Link just a week or so earlier. A famous Hylian writer named Traysi had pulled Zelda aside, desperate for some scoops on ancient Hyrulean legends that she could write about in her next installment. There was also one particular Hylian woman who had been following Zelda and Riju for most of the day, appearing occasionally in the corner of Zelda’s eye, only to vanish whenever she looked at her. Perhaps she was too shy to openly speak to the princess? Riju seemed to have noticed her too, but whenever she did she would merely smirk as though she found something funny and then turn away.

Several hours passed like this, with Zelda’s earlier apprehension towards Riju fading away to be replaced with general congeniality and then open like. The girl was bold and daring, fearless to a fault, eager to rush in to try new things, and though she tried her hardest to appear confidant and mature, Zelda could see the cracks in her façade where the fourteen-year-old would occasionally shine through. Buliara seemed to be the only other person who noticed these little slip-ups, however, and the two would occasionally share wry looks whenever Riju got caught acting her age.

At some point, Zelda’s exhaustion from so much travel must have shown through on her face, because Riju announced they were going to pay a visit to the famed Hotel Oasis for lunch and experience their illustrious ‘Spa Plan’. Lunch sounded amazing. A ‘Spa Plan’ sounded even better.

Which is what brought Zelda to the here and now, basking in the radiance of having received the best massage of her life. It was only her and Riju in the room now, Buliara opting to wait outside, and the masseuse having finished her job had returned to her friends and the celebration.

The room was now soft and quiet, and unusually steamy for a desert. Naked save for a towel over her waist, Zelda lay face-down on a cushioned table, trying and failing to not fall asleep. Idly, she wondered where Link was right at that moment. Likely fighting monsters out in the burning heat. He deserved as much for simply abandoning her in the way that he had without a second thought. In her state of supreme relaxation, she didn’t care how petulant that made her sound; she was bitter, and Link deserved his punishment.

“Zelda,” a voice from the side broke through her thoughts.

“Yes, Riju?” she replied sleepily, feeling completely at-ease even in her unfamiliar surroundings.

The younger girl propped herself up on her elbows, completely unconcerned for her nudity in true Gerudo fashion as she shot Zelda a look that was both bashful and somewhat daring.

“Now that you and I have become friends,” she began, uncharacteristically stiff and unsure, “I was wondering if perhaps you might be willing to deepen our bond by partaking in the pastime often shared between young vai wherein we reveal to one another things that we normally keep hidden from others.”

Zelda couldn’t help the smile that tugged its way onto her lips. Friends, were they? That sounded right. She found she enjoyed the younger girl’s company immensely, and even though she hadn’t quite figured out what her odd behavior earlier had been about, for whatever reason it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

In any event, Riju had this funny habit of occasionally adopting more formal diction when she was unsure in order to make herself seem older than she actually was, and she was doing so right now. It was one of the many quirks she’d noticed about the girl during their afternoon together, and it never failed to amuse her.

“You mean you want us to tell each other secrets?”

The Gerudo Chief flashed the princess an unabashed grin, and Zelda laughed. Well, it was a little childish, gossiping… then again, in many ways Riju was still a child. For that matter, Zelda had missed out on most of her own childhood herself… What was the harm in indulging in a little gossip?

“Did you have anything in particular you wanted to talk about?”

To her surprise, Riju blushed and looked down.

“Actually… There is one thing that I have always wanted to ask an older vai, but my people cannot look at me without seeing their leader, and so I always need to put this mask of professionalism around them. Were I to ask Buliara, I do not believe she would answer me. But now that you are here, perhaps I will finally have my answer.”

Zelda blinked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Something she wanted to ask an older vai? Where was this going…? A few possibilities came to mind, though most of them made Zelda squirm.

“Well… I suppose I can try…?”

Her obvious discomfort was lost on the Gerudo, who immediately blurted out, her cheeks fiery red, “What is it like to kiss a voe?!”

Zelda could only gape. Kissing…? She wanted to know about _kissing?_ Well, actually, that made a lot of sense when you thought about it.

Other than their fathers (assuming their fathers stuck around), Gerudo children didn’t typically have a lot of contact with males until they were old enough to go out in search of a mate. As a result, the stereotypical Gerudo had little to no knowledge about men and often built up absurd, completely farcical notions about members of the almost-mythical opposite sex, many that persisted even into adulthood.

Zelda had received a basic sexual education from scholars back in the castle, and growing up around men, she knew they really weren’t all that different from women when you got right down to it, but… how did sexual education look for a Gerudo? She’d never asked…

When Zelda hesitated, Riju became flustered and immediately began trying to explain herself.

“F-forgive me if that seemed crass, it is just… When I was young, I used to speak of things like this with my friends, only when I became the Chief after my mother died, all such interactions stopped. If I were to speak of such things to another now, they would see me as being immature. Buliara refuses to see me as anything but a child; she will not even allow me to meet with voe traders. She says that kissing a voe is no different than kissing a vai, but I do not believe her. Please, Zelda; surely you have had much experience with voe having grown up in your Hylian cities.”

It was Zelda’s turn to get flustered. Much experience? What was that supposed to mean? Even worse, the truth was that Zelda had never kissed a boy either. Well, there was that one time when she was nine, but that hardly counted… but did she tell Riju that or let her continue to think that Zelda was more mature and experienced than she was?

Ultimately, she decided to tell Riju the truth, both because she didn’t want to start lying to her new friend and because it was easier than pretending otherwise, as she’d learned the hard way in the Rito Village. She didn’t want to think about how uncomfortable lying about the Court Poet had been…

Predictably, Riju was astonished by Zelda’s confession.

“You have never kissed a voe either?! But… what of Link?!”

Zelda’s face went scarlet.

“W-what does Link have to do with anything?!”

“You spend so much time with him! Surely, I thought… do you not find him agreeable?”

“It has nothing to do with how ‘agreeable’ he is-!”

“Do you not think he would make a good mate?”

Zelda’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. A good mate? A good-?! Well… actually, she rather thought he’d make a phenomenal- no! No, bad thoughts, don’t go there!

Something like morbid embarrassment and shame at the direction her mind had gone flooded through her, making her flush from the roots of her hair down to her shoulders, and she forced herself to avert her eyes from Riju’s imploring gaze.

How could this younger girl ask such a question so… brazenly? Then again, ‘propriety’ was a societal construct and meant different things among the Hylians than it did among the Gerudo.

‘Mating’ wasn’t something to be embarrassed about among the all-female warrior tribe; it was necessary for the continuation of their race. Of all races, technically. Why then did the thought make Zelda so uncomfortable when Riju, who was younger and had next to no experience with men, could talk about it without even blinking? Did that make Zelda a prude? Or was it because they were talking about Link specifically? There was probably a good deal of truth to both.

Still, though, the Gerudo Chieftain was something else. Zelda would have killed to look as good as she did when she was fourteen, with her striking eyes and shapely hips, yet Riju’s beauty availed her nothing because she had no experience with men and likely wouldn’t be allowed to interact with one normally for years yet, let alone court one… the reason she could speak so freely about sex likely had to do with the fact that she’d never met a man and didn’t exactly realize what that entailed.

Actually… hold on. If Riju wasn’t allowed to interact with men, then… how had she met Link?

Deciding she’d been quiet for too long (and that she desperately needed to change the subject), she turned to her new friend and posed her query.

The younger girl blinked in surprise.

“Did he not tell you?”

For some reason, the question stung. No, he hadn’t told her the specifics, but it hadn’t seemed important up until now.

She said as much to Riju, but for some reason the girl was struggling to hold in her laughter.

“So then, you have not…? No, never mind, forget I said anything. I suppose I will have to leave the secret of our meeting up to Link to divulge.”

Zelda frowned. There was a story in there somewhere, and she desperately wanted to hear it. Unfortunately for her, Riju was not a girl easily swayed.

“But never mind how Link and I met. You did not answer my question. Do you not find Link agreeable? I have heard many of the guards state that they desired him for a mate. Even Buliara did not seem put-off by the notion. I must admit, he has many attractive features. Were I old enough to seek out a husband, I think he would make a fine match. Are you saying he is currently available?”

Zelda’s insides had turned to stone. The guards thought Link was attractive? Even Buliara? And Riju herself?! Granted, she was still too young by her own society’s standards, but Link wasn’t that much older… maybe he also thought that she was…? No, no, stop. Stop this right now. You’re not in some competition with the entirety of Gerudo Town where Link is the prize. These women are not your rivals.

Still… Maybe… Maybe she ought to tell Riju the truth about how she felt for Link. Removing the notion that Link was available (even though technically he was) from the mind of the leader of the Gerudo might help ease the unnecessary stress of potential competition. Even more than that, though… Riju wasn’t the only one who needed someone they could talk to about romance. The only women in Zelda’s life who she felt comfortable enough to talk to about her personal problems were Impa and Purah; one of whom was too busy to be Zelda’s sounding board for drama being the leader of a village, and the other… well, the other was Purah. Letting her find out about her feelings for Link would be a nightmare. There would be no end to her teasing.

Ultimately, however, what made up her mind was the set of Riju’s eyes and how much she reminded her of Urbosa. The late Gerudo Champion would be happy to know that Zelda had found someone she could trust in her predecessor, and Zelda had just admitted that she could think of Riju as a friend... Taking a deep breath, Zelda laid it all out.

She told Riju everything, from the beginning. How she and Link had met, how they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, how she’d all but despised him until their run-in with the Yiga. How she’d managed to begin drawing him out of his perpetual silence, how he’d always supported her even when she felt like falling apart, how the two had grown close even as the threat of the Calamity descended upon them. How he’d fallen to protect her. How she’d faced down Ganon alone for a century waiting for him to return. Their travels together, their many misadventures, the moment when she’d realized she’d fallen for him…

She wasn’t sure for how long they remained in the massage parlor. An hour maybe. Possibly more. But Riju didn’t seem put-off by the length of Zelda’s story; quite the opposite, actually. She was absolutely enamored by Zelda’s tale, gasping at all the right moments, probing for additional details, groaning whenever Link did something foolish. By the time Zelda got to the end, the two were sitting on the same pallet, both still completely naked, eating grapes and sliced hydromelons off of a platter which was swiftly running out of food.

“So why have you not told him?” Riju finally pressed when Zelda’s tale came to a close. “Are you afraid that he’ll say that he does not feel the same?”

“Of course I am! But… It’s more than that. I’m also afraid that he does feel the same. Where do we go from here? What’s the next step? How are we going to change? And… and how do I tell him?”

“Hmm…” Riju mused, licking the juice of the hydromelon off of her fingertips. “Voe are much more complicated than I had previously assumed.”

Zelda nodded emphatically. Now she was getting it.

“…It sounds to me like you need some advice from one who knows all. Luckily for you, I know just the person to ask.”

Which was how, a short while later, the Princess of Hyrule (now dressed in one of the traditional Gerudo outfits she’d received earlier that day) found herself face-to-face with a sand seal.

“Her name is Patricia.” Riju declared, chest puffing up in pride. “Is she not the most beautiful sand seal you have ever seen?”

Well… Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, Zelda decided ruefully. To her, it looked like a fat, furry rat with fins like a fish and who smelled like a wet dog. She kept that thought from Riju, however.

“Um… why have you brought me here to see Patricia?” Zelda asked hesitantly. “I thought you were taking me to meet someone who could help me with my, ah… problems.”

“I have! Patricia is not just your regular sand seal. She is an oracular sand seal. When you feed her fruit, she bestows upon you her sage wisdom.”

Zelda must have looked unconvinced, because Riju rolled her eyes and said, “Let me show you. Give me some of those grapes I had you bring along.”

Zelda complied, and a moment later Riju was kneeling down in front of the sand seal, stroking its fur as the large, unsightly creature began scarfing down the grapes straight out of her hand, covering her manicured digits in saliva.

“There we go, eat them all up my love…” Riju cooed, stroking the creature’s filthy fur with her free-hand.

Once her meal was finished, Patricia straightened up and began to bark.

“A moment, please,” said Panna, Patricia’s caretaker, “I will translate… hmm…”

A breeze rustled past, kicking up clouds of sand.

Finally, Panna opened her eyes.

“She says: Drink plenty of water to avoid dehydration.”

“So wise!” Riju exclaimed, throwing her arms around Patricia’s shoulders, nuzzling her face into her fur. “She is always so concerned about my health!”

Zelda frowned. Was this a joke? Was she being pranked?

“Now it is your turn!”

Zelda found herself being led forward by Riju and kneeling before Patricia, the sand seal’s eyes locked squarely on the grapes held in Zelda’s fingers.

She really didn’t want to do this. That saliva looked positively disgusting. Still… as silly as all of this was (an oracular sand seal? Absurd. She’d received absolutely no scientific evidence to back up Riju’s claim.), she didn’t want to offend Riju, and she’d touched nastier things for the sake of science. Withholding her sigh, Zelda gave in and offered up the grapes.

Patricia slurped them down with just as much gusto as before. Thankfully, Riju didn’t notice her grimace, as she was too busy scratching Patricia’s back. When the seal was finished, she straightened up and began to bark just like before while Zelda did her best to clean her hand off on the sand. A moment later, Panna began to translate.

“She says… Oh, forgive me, I almost translated one of her terrible puns… She says: Those who seek help may find guidance in the classroom.”

That made no sense to Zelda. It apparently did to Riju, however, who slapped her hand to her forehead with a gasp and exclaimed, “Of course! How could l have forgotten?!”

Which is how she found herself a few hours later as the special guest in Gerudo Town’s own ‘Voe and You’ class.

Sweet Goddesses above, kill her now…

The class was run by a pretty Gerudo woman named Ashai, with hair so bright it was almost pink, and though Zelda understood that the class typically had a decent turnout (again, Gerudo and their cultural inability to understand men…), it would seem that word had gotten around that the Princess of Hyrule would be attending, so the room was practically packed to the rafters.

Zelda was seated near the front with Riju, Buliara standing guard behind them, as they faced the students seated in their rows of orderly desks, a crowd of onlookers standing huddled behind them. Zelda could see hordes of Gerudo, young and old alike, all of them staring at her in eager anticipation as if she possessed within herself some fountain of knowledge about men that she was going to enlighten them all with.

Mixed in the crowd were several travelers, clearly trying to hide their amusement at the nature of the class and eager to see how Zelda was going to participate. There were Rito and Hylian women, including Traysi, author of the Rumor Mill, and that one particularly shy woman who’d been avoiding her all day, a couple of Sheikah, no Zora to be found (though with how dry it was here, that wasn’t a surprise), and a handful of Gorons… wait, why were there Gorons in here?!

Before Zelda could ask, Ashai began speaking.

“Vasaaq, students and guests, and welcome to this very special meeting of ‘Voe and You’. I am honored to announce that tonight we will be joined both by our beloved Chief, Makeela Riju, as well as our special visitor, Princess Zelda. Let us thank them for their presence.”

A smattering of polite applause followed Ashai’s words. Riju met them with practiced poise, nodding in serene acceptance, allowing a perfect porcelain smile to adorn her face. For Zelda’s part, she had to settle with not looking queasy. What was Riju’s plan? Why had she brought her here?!

 Out of nowhere, Riju raised her hand.

The teacher, who was no doubt about to launch into whatever activity she had planned for the start of class, hesitated, casting her leader a worried look.

“Chief? Is there something I can help you with?”

Riju smiled with perfect politeness.

“Forgive the interruption, Ashai, but I have a question. It is my understanding that occasionally you quiz your students by providing them with hypothetical scenarios involving encounters with voe and asking them to tell you how they would respond, correct?”

Ashai nodded, politely quizzical, and Riju pressed on.

“Do you suppose that, just this once, I might provide a hypothetical scenario for your students?”

The teacher blinked in surprise, and a rash of whispering broke out amongst the gathered crowd.

“Why- yes. Yes of course! We would be honored, wouldn’t we class?” Her students began nodding frantically. “Alright then. Our very own Chief Riju will be providing us with our first scenario tonight. Let’s do our best to showcase to her and the Princess all that we have learned, hmm?”

Without further preamble, Riju rose to her feet, although she wasn’t much taller than when she’d been sitting. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes… what was the younger girl up to?

“Let us say that you meet a voe on your travels, and at first you do not find him agreeable. Perhaps you do not get off on the right foot, perhaps his worth has yet to be revealed to you, it matters not- when first you meet, you have no desire to take him for your mate. However, after some time passes, you find your feelings for him begin to change. Perhaps you see more in him now than you did before, perhaps you realize your initial opinion was false. Whatever the case, your feelings have changed and now you desire him. How do you proceed?”

Zelda wanted to yank the hairs out of her head. She was using Zelda’s very real personal problems with Link as a training exercise in her ‘how to talk to boys’ class?!

…Actually, that wasn’t a terrible idea. Nobody knew she was talking about her, and if some of the Gerudo came up with a potential solution to Zelda’s problem, then…

Riju turned and flashed Zelda a coy smile over her shoulder, making the older girl flush. Never mind what potential good might come of this; Riju could be right dastardly when she felt like it. Zelda would need to keep her wits about her in the future.

The class seemed momentarily stymied by Riju’s question. Finally, after a few moments of awkward silence, one of the women (all of whom were older than Zelda by a number of years, she suddenly noticed) raised her hand and asked hesitantly, “I do not understand. If I did not find this voe attractive when we first met, why would my opinion change? Did his appearance change so much?”

“Dina,” Ashai reproved gently, “remember, physical attractiveness is not the only feature to look for in a husband. It is important that you also find a voe who is agreeable in personality and spirit. A weak-willed voe would make a weak-willed daughter, who would grow into a weak-willed warrior.”

The Gerudo nodded along sagely. Zelda could only stare.

“Besides which, finding that one’s feelings towards another can change over time is not a strange thing. How many of us did not like one of our sisters when first we met, only to find ourselves growing closer over time? The same can be true for voe.”

Startled murmurs broke out through the crowd, as though Ashai had just revealed some grand truth.

“Can they truly be so similar?” someone whispered in awe.

“It is as I have always said,” Ashai intoned wisely. “Voe don their sirwal one leg at a time, just like we vai. They are not so different as we might believe.”

Some of the Gerudo looked shocked, others disbelieving. Zelda and the other visitors merely stared. How could such strong, fierce women be so… naïve?

“Regardless, we are getting off-topic. We must address Chief Riju’s scenario. You find yourself suddenly desiring a voe whom you have previously known and been friendly with. How do you approach this new change? Come, offer up your best response to this puzzling situation.”

What followed was one of the strangest discussions Zelda had ever had in her entire life.

“Oh!” One of the women near the front of the class exclaimed, rising to her feet. “I would find ways to demonstrate my pleasing features to him in order to reciprocate feelings of desire in him for me, such as allowing him to witness me slaying a large monster.”

“What a powerful approach, Pasha!” Ashai replied brightly. “And what a classic, romantic scene! How could any voe resist a heroic vai?”

“Oh!” Another woman stood up, the one who had been confused before, “I would confront him directly about my desire to mate with him. That way, if he refused, I could stop wasting my time on him and pursue another target.”

“A very wise approach, Dina!” Ashai approved with pride, “Though remember that voe can often be shy about mating, and his initial discomfort may not mean that he is disinterested.”

“Oh!” A third woman stood up, this one near the back of the rows of desks, “I would break both of his legs so that he could not run from me and had no choice but to accept his new position as my husband!”

Ashai blinked several times.

“Risa…” She began slowly, “perhaps it is time that you stop coming to this class…”

Zelda was openly gaping in shock. Kill a monster? Ask him to mate? _Break his legs?!_ THIS was the class she had hoped to get inspiration from?!

Riju suddenly rose to her feet again, prompting everyone to turn in her direction.

“Oh, Chief! Did you wish to offer up an answer to the class?”

“No, forgive me.” She replied, her tone polite and aloof. “Rather, I thought it might be a good idea to ask some of our visitors what they might do in this situation. Getting the opinion of an outsider might prove instructive.”

“An excellent idea, Chief!” Ashai replied, though Zelda was too busy internally screaming to agree. If Riju asked her to stand up in front of the class and come up with an answer to her own problem, she was going to strangle her!

However, that’s not what Riju did. Instead she strode across the class, passing the rows of desks, heading towards the huddle of women that made up the back of the room.

Realizing what was happening, several of the non-Gerudo visitors valiantly tried to escape out the door, including that one particularly shy Hylian woman whom Zelda had kept seeing all day, but to the woman’s obvious dismay, Riju seemed to have zeroed-in on her the moment she stood up and caught the girl by the arm before she could push her way through the crowd and escape.

“Forgive me,” Riju began, though from the oddly sinister look on her face, you’d have thought she was up to something evil, “I don’t suppose you might be willing to give an answer to the class?”

From behind Zelda, Buliara let out what almost sounded like a snort of laughter.

The Hylian woman’s face had gone completely red. She was wearing a traditional Gerudo outfit, much like Zelda was, although this woman had a much more androgynous figure than Zelda did, having smaller breasts and less-rounded hips, though what she lacked in curves she made up for in solid abdominals. In a way, she looked more like a real Gerudo than Zelda did, though she was roughly Zelda’s height and had a similar skin tone and hair color. There was something oddly… familiar about her, though she couldn’t say exactly what.

“O-oh.” The woman replied, her voice sounding oddly husky. “Well, I… I don’t know that I’m really the best person to ask-“

“What is your name?” Ashai asked from the front of the class. “I believe I have seen you in here before, but I never found out who you were.”

“Ah, I’m… I…” Zelda felt her heart go out to the poor girl. She was clearly too shy for this. Riju ought to have picked another. “Linkle. My name is Linkle.”

Zelda blinked. _Linkle?_ What kind of name was- no, no, that was rude.

“Named after the famed Hylian Champion, no doubt.” Riju replied, though there was something sardonic in her tone. “Very well, _Linkle._ How would you approach this situation? There is someone you have known for a long time and you find yourself suddenly developing feelings for them.”

The girl gaped behind her veil, turning every which way as she wracked her brains for an answer. Her gaze met Zelda’s once before she hurriedly averted her eyes, possibly even more flustered than before.

“I… I-I suppose I would… I would tell her- him! I would tell him! Um… that things were different between us now, and though… he… might not feel the same, he needs to know how I feel.”

“And if things didn’t work out?” Riju pressed, cocking her head to the side.

“Then… Then I would hope that we could remain friends?”

A few more murmurs broke out. Zelda thought she heard one of the Gerudo say, “What is the point in having a voe for a friend if he is not your mate?”

“Would you be ok with that?” Riju continued, and now the poor Hylian girl looked truly flustered.

“I… I mean, it’s better than losing them, right?”

“Perhaps, but then, confessing carries the possibility of you losing the friendship you claim you want to preserve. If you did not confess, there would be no risk of losing it, is that not right? So then would it not be better to simply remain silent?”

The woman was quiet for a moment, seemingly having some sort of staring contest with Riju, until finally she replied, her voice quiet, “Nothing of value is ever obtained without risk.”

A triumphant smile flashed across Riju’s face, and she turned to shoot Zelda a poignant look. The Hylian woman glanced at Zelda too… and then a moment later, turned and pushed her way through the crowd, exiting through the door.

Zelda sighed. Of course a fourteen-year-old with no experience would act so superior… but she wasn’t wrong. The thing is, Zelda already knew all of this. She’d known it for a while. She knew what her answer was. She just kept putting it off, hoping she’d find a magical ‘risk-free’ solution to her problems. Only, that strange woman had been right. Nothing worth having was ever obtained without risk, without a price. The salvation of Hyrule was bought through countless sacrifices. Ending up with the man she loved would wind up being the same; for the chance of having him as her lover, she had to risk the possibility that she’d lose him forever.

The thing of it was, however, that the supposition that staying silent and keeping him as a friend was an ‘option’ was actually false. She couldn’t stay his friend. She couldn’t keep this inside for the rest of her life. It hurt too much. It would tear her apart, or it would tear them apart. Staying silent would only result in pain and sadness. Logically, then, the only path she could choose, the only one with the potential for a happy ending, was the path in which she told Link how she felt.

Now, she just needed to woman-up and do it, so to speak. The only question now was… when?

She could do it now, if she wanted to. Or rather, tomorrow morning when Link returned to the town to collect her. Doing it sooner rather than later had its benefits, however… in the all-too-real possibility that he rebuffed her affections, that would result in a terribly uncomfortable remainder of their journey. They still had to visit Lurelin, and then pay a visit to the Castle, where even now the Sheikah were hard at work surveying the ruins and creating a plan for the restoration of both the building and town.

Perhaps… Perhaps that would be the best time to tell him. Delaying wasn’t cowardice, it was practical (although if she were being truthful, the slight surge of relief she felt at the thought of not having to tell him yet seemed like clear evidence of cowardice to her); they still needed to work together for a little while yet, and if things were going to go south for them, it was best it happen later, when she could replace him with Sheikah bodyguards if need be and he’d be free to go his own way without feeling like he was abandoning his duty.

And if it did work out… well, the Castle was an important place for them. A lot of tragedies had happened there, yes, but it was also there that they were first brought together, and it was there that they’d been reunited after over a century apart. The potential for a third ‘union’ of sorts to happen in the same place had her shivering in anticipation. Getting her hopes up would only invite further pain if she were let down, but… at least now she had a plan.

The rest of the class passed in a blur, with Zelda lost in her thoughts and Riju content to let her stew. When they left, night had finally fallen, and the two leaders bid farewell to Ashai and the other women and made their way deeper into the palace, up to Chief’s personal chambers.

“So? What were your thoughts on the class?” Riju asked as she settled herself down on the edge of her bed.

Zelda blinked, pulling herself out of her reverie.

“It was… interesting.” Yes. That was one word for it.

“I suppose you have your answer now.”

Zelda grimaced.

“Yes… yes, I suppose I do.”

“And straight from the sand seal’s mouth, even.”

Zelda blinked.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Zelda stared at the younger girl, not comprehending.

“I thank you for spending this day with me.” Riju continued, apparently changing the subject. A pensive look had come over her face. “I know it must have seemed frivolous at times, particularly when you consider that you have an entire nation in need of rebuilding. However, my people would not follow a foreign leader just because I commanded them to. They needed to see you for themselves, to interact with you, to gauge what sort of person you are and what sort of leader you would become.

“I have always known that one day our Princess would return to restore Hyrule and that it was my duty so help her achieve this goal, for the sake of my people. It is good that you are a vai; it would be hard enough to convince them to follow a Hylian, but a voe would be out of the question, at least at first. Now, however, I believe that you have succeeded in convincing them that you are a kind person, and that you can be trusted. It should make the transition easier once we begin reunifying the country. Nevertheless, I apologize if you feel as though I wasted your time.”

“No!” Zelda blurted out hastily, even as Riju bowed herself before her in submission. “No, Riju- I’m not upset at all, quite the opposite! Truth be told, I… I was uncertain when we arrived this morning how our interaction would go. Not for any political reasons, but because… because my memories of this place are all tied to Urbosa. She was something like a sister and a mother to me, someone I looked up to and admired, someone I loved dearly, and I worried that my time here would be tainted by the pain of losing her.

“But you and your people changed that. I had a wonderful day today. Your people are so kind and strong- you should be proud, Riju. And on top of that, you managed to distract me from the pain of Urobosa’s passing. Now, rather than feeling like I lost a sister… I rather feel as though I’ve gained one.”

It was a little embarrassing, admitting something so personal to someone she’d known for less than twenty-four hours, but it was true, nonetheless. She felt a kinship with Riju, and perhaps that was just because Zelda was starved for friends, and perhaps it was because the two shared the unique circumstance of being young, female rulers who found themselves suddenly thrust into positions of power following the loss of their parents, but she honestly liked the girl and hoped their friendship would continue to grow.

It would be good for Hyrule, yes, for the Gerudo and Hylians and the rest of the country alike, but it would also be good for them. Having someone you could rely on, someone who could understand your individual struggles, someone you could confide in, could make all the difference.

From the red that stained Riju’s cheeks, Zelda’s confession had clearly been a little embarrassing for her too, but the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her face looked completely genuine.

“Well then,” She said, suddenly throwing herself back onto her bed, all signs of professionalism suddenly lost as she snuggled one of her stuffed sand seals against her chest, “if we are to be sisters, then we must strengthen our bond even further. You will be leaving with Link in the morning. I propose that we take advantage of what little time we have left and stay up the whole night bonding.”

Zelda snickered, sitting down on the edge of Riju’s bed.

“A slumber party, is it?”

“Naturally.”

“I suppose I’m alright with that. Though if I fall asleep on my horse tomorrow, Link will be upset.”

“Good. He deserves a little trouble every now and then.” A moment later, she was sitting up, shouting, “Buliara! Zelda and I require snacks!”

A loud voice called back, “It is too late for snacking! Go to bed!”

“It’s barely evening! This is a day of celebration! And in any event, princesses do not have bed times!”

The older woman grumbled something from the stairwell, and then a moment later poked her head in around the corner.

“Fine. I will send someone to fetch you snacks, but only because you have a guest.” There was a pause, and then, “…but you will have to share.”

“You are permitted to join us.” Riju relented with an exaggerated sigh, prompting a laugh from Zelda and a grin from Buliara. Not long later, Zelda found herself seated beside Riju on her bed, a stuffed sand seal in both of their arms as Buliara and the guard who was sent for food positioned themselves in chairs around the room, the four women talking and laughing late into the night.

Outside, above the bedroom, high on the top of the palace where a spring of water burst clear from the bedrock the building was hewn from, the Hero of Hyrule sat alone, shivering in the cold, silently regretting that he hadn’t brought a change of outfits.


	15. The Paraglider Incident

“Ok. Now pay attention, Zelda, because this can be dangerous.”

“Link, please.” She scoffed. “I’ve watched you do this dozens of times. It can’t be that complicated.”

“It’s not, it’s not… But you don’t exactly have my… upper-body strength.”

As though to illustrate his point, he reached over and squeezed her bicep, eliciting a reproving squeak from the princess.

“You have to be able to hold yourself up by your arms until you can safely reach the ground, otherwise you’ll fall out of the sky and then where will we be?”

“Princess-less, I should think.” Zelda replied flippantly, prompting one of Link’s patented ‘disapproving scowls’ and a resigned eyeroll from her.

“Link, I’m going to be fine, stop worrying so much.”

And she would be fine. He could nag and worry all he wanted to, but she’d finally managed to wear him down and convince him to let her try out his paraglider after weeks and weeks of fruitless begging; there was no way was she going to let him ruin this moment for her by channeling the joyless spirit of her late childhood nursemaid.

In any event, the hill they were on wasn’t even particularly steep. On a mountain east of the Gerudo Desert, overlooking the wooded landscape of southern Hyrule, the air up here was chilly enough that nearly a foot of snow covered the ground, and though the sky overhead was filled with thick grey clouds that showered them in a gentle dusting of powdery snowflakes, the breeze was relatively tame.

There was no actual reason to come here, insofar as their journey to visit the various surviving settlements of Hyrule was concerned. Nobody lived here. In fact, hardly anything lived here at all. But as their time together on their journey was coming to an end, with the promise of endless meetings with the various leaders of Hyrule and the beginning of the actual reconstruction of Castle Town once they rejoined the Sheikah, Zelda had realized that her free time was swiftly drawing to an end, and by association her ability to be alone with Link without the stresses and worries that accompanied the life of a princess of a kingdom in restoration. And so, unprofessional though it might be, she had convinced her Hero to take her on a little sight-seeing detour. He hadn’t seemed to mind the delay.  

The wreckage of a dilapidated old cabin stood a little ways to the side, near where Link had set up their tent for the evening. He hadn’t wanted to stay in the snow, but it was getting late and he was loath to try and lead his princess and the horses down the snowy mountainside in the dark. This worked out perfectly for Zelda, because the snowy hill by their camp provided the perfect opportunity for her to try out his paraglider.

Well, perhaps not exactly perfect… it wasn’t quite as high as Zelda would have liked, ending in a sort of cliff only about twenty feet above the snowy ground below, though to Link it might as well have been the tip of the Dueling Peaks. His paranoia was understandable, given all that they’d been through, though she wished he’d lighten up a little. His behavior over the last week or so had been… odd. Which wasn’t to say that he was behaving any differently, really, however… he’d been a little more ‘touchy’ than he usually was, like when he’d playfully squeezed her bicep a moment ago. Or perhaps he wasn’t and this was all in her head as she desperately read into his every action for clues that he might possibly reciprocate her feelings. Regardless, now was not the time to think about Link’s various peculiarities- the time had come for the princess to fly…

Or, rather, fall… with style…

She glanced over the edge of the cliff again and something in her belly flip-flopped. Strangely, now that she was here, twenty feet did feel rather higher than she had anticipated…

“What do you think Revali would say if he could see me now?” Zelda babbled absently, trying to distract herself from her sudden unease.

Link snorted, the paraglider hanging listlessly by his side by one hand, swinging in the breeze.

“He’d probably critique your form and then show off by flying around you in circles.”

Zelda giggled. “He would, wouldn’t he? Though he was never such a braggart unless you were around…”

“Then,” Link continued as though he hadn’t heard her, “he would turn around and mock me for being stuck on the ground while the two of you sailed around in the air. Then he would use it as a metaphor for how far beneath you I was.”

She turned and flashed him a glare, opening her mouth to remind him for the umpteenth time that he wasn’t beneath her at all, when he surprised her by thrusting the paraglider into her arms.

“We’re going to have to get a move on if you want to do this before nightfall.”

Zelda blinked, all of her previous thoughts fleeing her head as excitement and dread welled up within her. Oh, Hylia, it was time. This was it, she could do this! She was really going to do this…! And even more amazing, Link was letting her!

“Remember,” his authoritative voice broke through her internal celebration, “you have to keep a firm grip on the handles. The wind will be doing most of your steering, though you can try to lean your body if you want to try and change your course.”

“Right.” Zelda replied, her nerves tingling as she righted the sail in front of her, securing her hands around the handles, her palms sweaty in her downy gloves.

“You can lift your legs a bit to help center your balance, but don’t be afraid to let them hang if your muscles can’t handle the prolonged strain.”

“Right.” Prolonged strain? How weak did he think she was?

“And don’t hold it like that just yet, the wind might catch the sail and jerk you off the cliff before you’re ready.“

“Right.”

“Zelda, you’re not listening.”

“Right.”

“I said don’t-!”

“Whoa!”

A sudden gust from behind caught the sail that she’d been holding just in front of her navel, jerking her forward, nearly sending her toppling off the cliff face and down to the cold bank of snow twenty feet below. Luckily, she had the presence of mind to let go of one of the handles, allowing her to stop just short of the cliff, her boots kicking tufts of snow off the ledge, the paraglider swinging wildly from her left hand as the breeze died down.

Stepping hastily back from the ledge, a nervous sort of laugh bubbled up from her throat.

“Oh. That was… certainly close, wasn’t it?” She struggled to swallow back the fear and bile in her throat. Hopefully, Link wouldn’t change his mind about letting her try the paraglider…

It took her a moment to realize that Link hadn’t reacted to her near-death experience, nor her unapologetic response to how her not paying attention to his warnings had almost brought about her untimely demise (or at the very least, a serious injury). She turned her head towards where he had last been standing and was surprised to find he wasn’t there.

Blinking, confused, she turned her head further, glancing behind her down the hill, wondering if he had perhaps stalked off in frustration, and instead found nobody behind her, the snowy path they’d trodden up together disturbed as though something had rolled through it, and there, at the base of the hill, a figure lay unmoving on the ground.

Was that…?

Something like panic welled up inside of her, and a moment later she was sprinting down the hillside, the paraglider dropping from her hand, forgotten, heedless of the thick snow that slowed her movements or the danger that awaited her if she tripped and fell.

“Link? Link!”

He wasn’t moving. There had been a small pond near the bottom of the hill, one of many that dotted the area around the abandoned cabin, the surface coated in a thin sheet of ice, and Link had apparently toppled straight into it. It wasn’t very deep; both of his legs and one of his arms remained above the surface of the ice, but his upper torso and head were completely submerged in the inky black water.

Zelda didn’t hesitate. She stepped out onto the fractured ice, letting her boot break through the surface and enter the water as she bent down to grab him. The water was so cold it burned, and as she shoved her hands into the water to fish around for something to latch onto, she let out a gasp of pain. Moments later, though her digits had gone completely numb, she somehow managed to snag the front of his tunic and haul him out of the freezing water.

He was unconscious. That wasn’t surprising, but it was alarming. What on earth had happened?! He’d been fine at her side not a moment earlier, and then in the blink of an eye he was at the bottom of a hill with his head in a frozen pond!

She crouched by his side, propping his body up against her chest as she shook him, gently wiping the wet hair from his eyes, slapping his cheeks. No response. Flakes of snow were beginning to stick to his hair and face. Her entire body was shaking, both from fear and the intense cold she was now experiencing thanks to her and Link’s sodden clothing. She couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. She needed to get him somewhere warm, as fast as possible.

Dragging his limp arms around her shoulders, she threw all of the strength she could muster into her trembling legs and hauled herself to her feet, powered by the sheer force of her fear.

The trip back to their tent, which honestly wasn’t that far away, felt as though it took an eternity. With her feet numb and her path encumbered by the snow, dragging along Link’s surprisingly heavy body was even more tedious than it ought to have been. She tripped and slid and stumbled several times, nearly falling over once or twice, but the knowledge that Link needed her set her heart blazing with resolve and kept her on her feet. The tent was so close… So close now… She was almost there…

She fell through the entrance flap, Link’s body landing heavily on top of hers, winding her, but she couldn’t spare a moment to catch her breath. Dragging him inside, she hastily discarded her wet gloves and boots, tied the door shut, and turned her attention back to Link.

It was too dark in the tent now to see. Crawling over to Link’s bags, she fished around inside, hissing whenever she cut her fingers on one of his weapons before she found what she was looking for.

Fire arrows.

She jerked the quiver out of the bag, dislodging several odds and ends in the process, and hastily cast the arrows all around the floor. They glowed like coals in the darkness of the tent, too hot to hold against Link’s body but hopefully enough to help warm up the stagnant air of the tent without setting anything on fire (although on that last point she was a little dubious). There wasn’t time to worry about that, however. Warming the tent up wouldn’t do any good if Link was stuck in those wet clothes.

The arrows provided the additional benefit of illuminating the inside of the tent enough for Zelda to see. Crawling back to her Hero’s side, she reached out and touched his face, foolishly hoping for some sign of improvement. His skin was pale, but not blue, and he was shivering. That was a good sign… was it not? She couldn’t remember. Her heart was in her throat still, and her brain felt scrambled. All she could think about in this moment was how badly she needed him to be ok.

Think, Zelda, think… what would Purah do? All of those lessons in your youth, all of those things she and Robbie had taught you… there has to be something useful in there. Something… medical, perhaps, something about anatomy, or administering to the sick, or what to do when the man you love is a heartbeat away from freezing to death…

She didn’t know. She didn’t know! She didn’t study this! She didn’t know how to help someone in need! She didn’t do the rescuing, that was Link’s job! And now he needed her and all she could do was watch!

Warm… he needed to be warm… Whether the fire arrows succeeded in heating up the tent or not, they weren’t working fast enough. There had to be another source of heat nearby… maybe he had an extra fire rod in his bags? Or one of those magical swords? Or…

The answer finally clicked in her sluggish brain, and moment later she went to work, desperately tearing the wet clothes off his body, throwing them forgotten into the corner. When he was completely naked, she seized him by the arms and dragged him onto his pallet, carefully arranging blankets so that they swaddled him like a cocoon, too panicked and distracted to feel uncomfortable with Link’s nudity.

Now it was her turn. Trembling fingers flew to the buttons on the front of her coat, fighting past the cold that numbed them as she shrugged the damp fabric off her shoulders and onto the floor. Seizing the hem of her shirt, she jerked it over her head and threw it into the corner with Link’s clothes. It was soon followed by her pants, socks, and other undergarments. She instantly felt warmer the moment her wet clothing left direct contact with her skin, though with nothing on, the tent still felt inhospitably chilly.

Crawling forwards on hands and knees, Zelda seized the folds of Link’s makeshift blanket cocoon and crawled inside, making sure to close it tightly behind her. With the blankets drawn over her head, in the semi-darkness of her bundles of cloth, Zelda allowed her body to settle down on top of Link’s, sharing her warmth with him.

His body felt like ice. His skin was so cold, it almost didn’t feel human.

Her first instinct was to get off of him because of how cold he was, but that wouldn’t do. Propping herself up on one arm, she began desperately trying to rub feeling back into his extremities.

A few heartbeats passed in relative silence, broken only by the sound of skin-on-skin friction and her frantic breathing.

There, alone in the darkness, with her heart still hammering in her throat and her limbs still quivering uncontrollably, now that she had finally stopped rushing, the weight of everything that had just happened came tumbling down on top of her like an avalanche. A moment later she was slumped over, head in the crook of Link’s neck, sobbing uncontrollably on his unresponsive shoulder.

She couldn’t do this. Not again. She’d almost lost him once, only this time there wasn’t a convenient burst of godly magic or a hyper-advanced healing chamber to save him. There was only her, some foolish, impotent little girl with nothing to her name but a ruined kingdom and a lifetime of failures. He deserved better than this… better than dying alone and forgotten with no one but her at his side…

If he died… If she lost him… She couldn’t go on. She didn’t want to go on. What would be the point?

She wasn’t sure for how long she lay there crying. Minutes. Hours, perhaps. It had grown dark outside, at least. Eventually, however, her tears ran dry, and she was left in the dark with nothing but the howling of the wind outside as the snowstorm picked up, and the languid sound of their breathing.

Because he was breathing, she’d realized after a while. And his breathing was completely normal. Even his coloring seemed better, and both his and her shivering had nearly stopped. Only, he hadn’t opened his eyes.

Zelda remained in place, curled into his body, her mind sluggish and exhausted. The arm she was resting on awkwardly angled up over her head, her fingers absently threading their way through his mostly-dried hair, while the other hand studiously traced the scars on his chest and abdomen. She’d seen them before, of course; she’d seen him shirtless on a number of occasions, as he’d awkwardly pointed out to the stable master’s wife on their first night after the defeat of the Calamity, but she’d never seen them so close, in so intimate a setting.

Each one was like its own little story, holding her spellbound in her muddled state, her brain foggy and numb from the cold and the exhaustion of both the lateness of the hour and the drain of her emotions. Her fingers gently glided across the rough tissue, imagining each blow, each wound he took for her and her people, never complaining, never backing down… he was so brave. So foolishly stubborn. So infuriating. So perfect. So imperfect. She wanted to hold him like this forever, for the rest of their lives. The Hero and the Princess. Link and Zelda. _Goddesses, please, don’t take him from me… I can’t handle any more loss.._

A patch of sticky wetness in Link’s hair caught Zelda’s attention, and she lifted her head from off his shoulder to examine it.

It was blood. Blood from a cut on the back of his skull. As gently as possible, she tilted his head to the side, brushing through his hair, trying to find the wound.

There was a gash hidden beneath his hair, not very long, already mostly scabbed over. But how…?

Some of the gears in her exhausted brain suddenly clicked together, and understanding flooded through her. She’d been trying to make sense of what had happened for hours now, replaying the moment in her mind over and over until now, when she’d finally reached a conclusion.

When the wind had gusted forward, catching the paraglider, nearly sending her toppling off the cliff, Link must have lunged forward to grab her and lost his footing on the snowy ground. Gravity and momentum would have worked together to send him rolling down the hill until he came to stop in the partially frozen pond. The blood on the back of his head explained a few things, like why he was unconscious; he must have stuck a rock somewhere on the way down, hidden in the snow, or else perhaps it was the icy surface of the pond itself that had done it.

Which meant, of course, that his body temperature might have nothing to do with why he was unconscious, and it was entirely possible that she’d overreacted and hadn’t needed to strip down and cuddle with him at all. That thought was mildly embarrassing, though not nearly as much as she thought it would be. After all, even if it wasn’t why he was unconscious, he still needed to be warmed back up. And… well… she liked… being this close to him…

Sometime later, just when Zelda was finally beginning to succumb to her fatigue, her eyes fluttering closed as she rested her head atop his shoulder, she felt her Hero finally begin to stir.

Pushing herself up on her elbows, brushing her hair from her face, Zelda watched in wonder and joy as Link’s eyes slowly opened, blinking up at her owlishly through the dim light of the tent.

His first words were, “Ugh… my head…”, followed by, “…Zelda?”

His voice was slightly muddied, but his gaze was clear and focused intently on her. She thought her heart was going to explode from sheer relief and joy right then and there.

“Link…” She rasped, her voice too weak to function, and moment later she’d pulled herself forward, arms around his neck, face buried in his chest as she struggled to fight back the tears of relief that threatened to spill forward.

“You’re alive… Oh, Goddess… thank you… thank you…”

He shuffled uncomfortably beneath her, letting out a loose groan.

“Ah… ow. What… happened?”

“You fell down the hill.” She answered, sniffling, as she lifted her head up to meet his gaze once again, unable to look away. His eyes were so comforting and familiar and _blue_ … “You must’ve hit your head on a rock or something on the way down. You landed in a pond. I thought you were going to freeze to death, so I…”

His eyes glanced down towards her chest, then immediately jerked back up, his face surprisingly red considering how pale he’d been before.

“P-princess.” He stammered, “I… this… you should not be-“

“It’s Zelda, Link.” She whispered, laying a hand over his mouth to silence his protests. For some reason, be it exhaustion or the overwhelming relief at seeing him awake and speaking, she felt completely at ease for all that the two of them were naked and she was lying on top of him. A familiar sort of comfort had descended upon her, and she didn’t want it to end. “Please… You might have died. You were so cold… I just needed to keep you warm. Stay here, just for now, just for tonight… until I know you’re better. Please, Link. For me.”

His cheeks were still red, but his eyes remained locked on hers even as she removed her hand from his lips and began stroking his hair again.

“Zelda,” he rasped, his eyes pleading, and she shook her head, knowing what he was going to say.

“Just ignore it for now, Link.”

“What if I can’t?”

Zelda stilled her movements, her eyes riveted on his. He still looked panicked and somewhat embarrassed, but there was something else in his gaze, something burning, something needy, that quickened her pulse and set her blood on fire.

Breath hitching, barely daring to believe he could possibly mean what she thought he did, she whispered back, “Then don’t.”

A moment passed in complete silence. The two teens remained still, eyes locked in a silent conversation, begging, pleading, needing. A tiny voice in her head tried to interrupt, to fill her mind with doubts like it always did; princesses didn’t behave this way, Link was her knight, none of this was proper, he was injured, she still didn’t know how he felt about her, what if she was taking advantage of him…

Zelda’s brain was hazy with exhaustion and lust. She cast the voice aside.

Then, with a ravenous hunger that had been gnawing at her for a century, Zelda seized her Hero by the sides of his face and pulled her head down, crashing her lips hungrily into his own, her heart soaring when she felt his arms tighten around her waist and their legs tangle together before she succumbed to her need, all rational thought falling away. She would deal with the consequences later.

As the night grew late, the storm intensified. Both within the tent and without.


	16. Lurelin

It was sunset again.

How many of these had Link stopped to witness in the ensuing days since he’d rescued his princess and driven back the Calamity? Dozens, easily. Each one in a different part of this beloved land, each one a masterful example of the beauty of nature.

The sunset in Lurelin was particularly breathtaking; as the sun descended, it cast a multitude of colors across the vast southern seas as though the water was one large painter’s canvas. All around him was peace and serenity. The crashing of waves, the cries of the gulls, the rustling of wind through the palm trees. He had been wise to sneak this far down the beach. There was nobody here to disturb him, no villagers to shake him from his thoughts, no children demanding his attention. Nobody. He was perfectly alone and perfectly at peace. He had been this way for hours.

And his peace was about to be shattered.

“Here you are.”

Her voice was soft like the foam of the sea, the familiarity in her tone warming him more than the dying light from the setting sun before him. He had heard her approaching, of course, or at least had heard someone approaching and had assumed it was her, but he didn’t turn his gaze away from the ocean. His eyes scoured the horizon absently as though searching for the answers he still hadn’t found.

“Good evening, Link.” The Princess announced playfully when she’d finally reached his side. “So this is where you’ve been all day.”

Looks like his quiet time was finally at an end…

“Princess.” He nodded in greeting, his tone level, ingenuine. “I hope your day was successful. I had thought that the villagers might be more comfortable without me hanging over you all the time.”

“Yes, I’m certain that was your thought process exactly.”

She joined him by the rock, one arm behind her back as she slowly looked him over. He could feel her eyes like a physical touch, noting out of his periphery the way that her gaze hesitated on the scars on his torso as they always did whenever she saw him bare-chested.

He avoided her gaze as she examined him, conscious of the way her irises were heavy with guilt and sadness as they always were whenever she saw the marks of his old wounds. There was nothing he could say to make her feel better about his scars, so he let it be. If she wanted to stare at him, then she could. He didn’t mind.

Were it not for the odd mood he was in, he might have done the same for her. She was back in that same Gerudo-styled outfit she’d had on that day in Goron City when they’d ventured to the hot springs, the one that completely bared her midriff and had a slit up the floor-length floral skirt that showed off far too much of her shapely legs. Some of the villagers seemed to have threaded flowers through her braid, and the skin of her shoulders and cheekbones was beginning to redden, a sure sign of sunburn.

Clearly, while Link had been sulking in isolation, his Princess had been enjoying her time with the villagers in the sun and the surf. He almost envied how carefree she was behaving, in spite of everything that had happened. Their ‘diplomatic’ visit to Lurelin had turned into a vacation of sorts for his princess, which was fine considering how close they were to returning to the castle and the weight of her responsibilities. For him, however, the day had been anything but relaxing. 

Unlike the last time she’d donned her rather revealing getup, Zelda seemed completely unabashed to be wearing it in front of Link, and though part of that was undoubtedly due to the fact that the villagers here dressed much in the same fashion, making her fit right in, he had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the fact that he’d recently seen her wearing far less.

Memories of their sordid activities together a few nights past flashed through his mind unbidden for the umpteenth time that day, and he scowled. Not yet… He knew why she was here, but not yet… He still didn’t know what to say to her…

Zelda, however, was not one prone to wasting time. If there was a mystery to be solved, she would do anything and everything in her power to be the one to do it, and nothing could be more mysterious to her than the odd turn their relationship had taken over the last couple of days. And the reason behind why Link had taken to avoiding speaking with her again.

“Link…” she began, making a valiant attempt at sounding nonchalant but obviously choosing her words with extreme care, “we need to talk.”

He withheld a sigh. Here it was… He knew this was coming, he even agreed that it needed to happen. He wanted to talk to her. He just… didn’t know what he wanted to say.

“I can tell that you are… ill at ease.”

The sheer awkwardness of her tone, mixed as it was with a brittle sort of fear as though she were taking her first steps over a half-rotted rope bridge, was almost enough to make him smile. He loved pushing her out of her comfort zone, making her drop that regal persona that had been drilled into her since birth to reveal the woman under the mask. It was what he lived for these days, it seemed.

When he didn’t respond, she pushed on, absent-mindedly wringing her fingers together.

“I find I can relate.”

He had to stop himself from snorting.

“What happened between us was… certainly different and rather unexpected. However, Link, we are adults now, you and I, and- “

“Are we now?” He cut in, his voice dry.

“What? Yes, of course, don’t be silly. And because of that, we mustn’t…”

She trailed off, noticing the smirk that had wormed its way past his stoic façade, and her shoulders slumped, her body losing the tension that had had her standing up so rigidly. She settled back against the boulder beside him with a heavy sigh, their arms brushing, determined not look at him. At the very least, she had stopped anxiously playing with her hands.

“Do not mock me, Link.” She grumbled, half-reproachful, half-embarrassed, and Link felt his smile grow in earnest for all that it did not touch his eyes.

“I would never, Princess.” He replied, his voice just a touch too-sincere. “However, that was an honest question. I suppose mentally we have fully matured, but… physically speaking, how old do you think we are now?”

Zelda shrugged uncomfortably.

“I couldn’t say. Physically, we don’t appear to be much older than we were when… when we were separated, but psychologically… spiritually…”

He nodded slowly, understanding all that she could not express.

“So much has changed… and yet, so much remains the same.”

“Such profound insight.”

When Link didn’t reply to her playful jab, the princess finally gave up on horizon-gazing and turned to him, her golden hair swaying in the breeze, visible out of the corner of his eye.

“…Are we really not going to talk about this, Link?”

He shifted uneasily on the sand, but didn’t reply.

She sighed again. He was becoming increasingly used to the sound.

“Five days.” She whispered, turning away again. “Nearly a week has passed since we had a normal conversation. I understood, at first. I thought, maybe he just needs some time to come to terms with what we’d done, or… perhaps he’s still sorting out his feelings… but I don’t know how much longer I can wait, Link. Please… talk to me. I dealt with your silence once before; I don’t want to go through with that again.”

The guilt returned, gnawing its way through his gut and up his esophagus, but still Link remained quiet. Not out of fear, or embarrassment, or anything like that. The problem was, he… He still didn’t know what to say. What he wanted to say.

She was right, of course. The two needed to talk – desperately. If they continued on like this, if Link persisted in his childish silence, the result would inevitably be the degradation of the congenial relationship they’d worked so hard to foster. Only… he had no idea how to move forward. Or what exactly ‘forward’ even meant. The situation he found himself in was unprecedented. Never, not even in his wildest dreams, had he ever prepared himself for the possibility of this new-found reality. It was… confusing. Unbelievable. Wonderful. Horrifying.

He had slept with Zelda. 

Even the words alone perturbed him. Yet… what bothered him most of all was how he didn’t feel like he was bothered nearly enough. He was a knight, or at least had been when the country was still around, and he held himself still to those self-same knightly standards. Every day he risked his life in defense of not only his country and its people, fallen though they might be, but of Zelda and for her safety. He had devoted his entire existence to her. It was his job, the very purpose of his life, to keep her safe from harm. Physical and otherwise. What he had done that night in a moment of passion had been tantamount to throwing away everything he had ever stood for.

Granted, he didn’t remember all that much about the exact nature of the oaths he had sworn, but he could feel in his soul the wrongness of his actions, in the memory of memories lost but so vital to his being that they had etched themselves into the hollow of his soul.

She was the princess. Symbol of the nation. The future ruler. Royalty. Someone the knights were supposed to obey and serve, with all their heart and soul. Being caught engaging in sexual acts with her went far beyond ‘un-knightly behavior’. Were King Rhoam still alive, and had he found out what he and Zelda had done, there would be no questions, no trial, no second-thoughts. He would have had Link beheaded faster than he could blink. End of discussion.

And yet… even knowing all of that, that he had betrayed his king, his vows, his own ideology, even knowing that were it not for the Calamity, Link would be in chains or worse… he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. The part of Link that felt separated from his past by his one-hundred-year slumber and ensuing amnesia couldn’t seem to bring himself to fully empathize with the person he used to be and the rules he used to live by.

This was a new world, with new laws and new dynamics. And this new Link who was hopelessly in love with the woman beside him felt nothing but euphoria at the thought of what they’d done five nights ago.

Ultimately, this had been the cause of his silence since then, the reason why he hadn’t been speaking with Zelda. His mind was at war with himself; half of him knowing he ought to cast himself at her feet and offer himself up to her judgment for the crimes he had committed, and the other half wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and do it all over again. How on earth was he supposed to approach her? Did he act like nothing had happened? Continue like normal? Would that anger her, or would she play along? And which one did he want her to do?

Needless to say, he was a little conflicted.

By this point, several long, drawn out minutes had passed, and the princess of Hyrule was about ready to snap. Though Link kept his gaze on the horizon, he could see her growing more and more agitated out of the corner of his eye, and though he knew it was cruel, it amused him to no end. At least he wasn’t the only one bothered by what had happened between them, though he could tell it wasn’t for the same reason.

Though she was trying to be mature about it, he could see from the slight blush on her cheeks, the furrow of her brow, and the way she worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she shifted her weight from foot to foot that she was more than just irritated that Link wasn’t speaking; she was embarrassed to be openly acknowledging their sexual encounter, hence why she went out of her way to ‘remind’ him that they were adults. She could be adorably awkward at times. His and her youth were hardly the issue right now. Age wasn’t the chasm that divided them.

Just as he was certain she was about to storm off in a huff, he opened his mouth and spoke.

“Since you’re so eager to talk about it,” he began, feeling the words slip off his tongue unbidden, “why don’t you begin.”

Zelda stared at him with wide, doe-like eyes.

“Me…?”

“You said you wanted to talk about it. So let’s talk. What did you want to say?”

His tone was too cold, too detached. He hadn’t meant it to be, but he was still unsure how he wanted to approach this conversation. Did he want to push her away? Pull her in closer? Which answer was right?

Beside him, Zelda seemed to draw into herself defensively for a moment, folding her arms around her midsection, gazing softly at the sand between her toes.

Another minute passed in complete silence. Seagulls flapped by overhead, the sun rapidly sinking beneath the horizon, painting the sea and sky in ever more vivid swaths of orange and pink. The breeze gusted intermittently, tugging at their hair, inviting loose strands to dance in the wind. It was chillier today than he’d expected. Goosebumps were breaking out all over his bare chest and arms. He wondered how cold Zelda was, and whether she’d like a shirt.

Finally, in a quiet, guarded voice, she answered.

“I… I don’t regret it…”

Link turned away from the sea, watching the way she averted her gaze, the light from the setting sun nearly enough to hide the blush on her cheeks. She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear apprehensively, her toes wiggling nervously in the sand.

“You don’t?”

His voice sounded odd and numb to his ears.

She shook her head, still staring at the ground.

“No… I mean, I… I don’t know that I necessarily wanted it to happen in the manner that it did, but… If I’m being completely honest… I don’t care how it happened. I’m just glad it was with you.”

Something twisted in Link’s navel. His head felt funny and warm.

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out a lame, “I doubt your father would agree with you.”

He fully expected Zelda to react negatively to the unsolicited mentioning of her father, either lapsing into sorrow once again at his passing or else seeing the unspoken connection Link was subconsciously alluding to between them and the system of laws and class divisions that her father represented in Link’s mind.

Rather than doing either of those two things, however, Zelda let out an unexpected snort of laughter.

“No, I rather think he wouldn’t.” Her giggles continued for a moment longer, unrestrained, and Link found himself reminded once again how much more lively she looked without the weight of the Calamity crashing down on her. She turned to meet Link’s eyes, her laughter subsiding, her expression alive with humor though her eyes seemed at once bashful and full of hope. “But then… I don’t think he expected his daughter to fall in love with the man he chose to be her knight.”

Link’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest. She… She loved him back…? And she just… said it? Just like that?

Granted, he had suspected as much, at least dared to hope that she reciprocated some portion of his feelings for her (denying it after the manner in which she initiated their ‘carnal activities’ in the tent the other night would have been more than a little naive), but even as one side of his mind erupted in absolute euphoria like the raging summit of Death Mountain itself, the other half of his psyche shrunk down, flinching away from the earnestness in her eyes as though warding off a physical blow.

She loved him… And he loved her… but he was… he was…

As he struggled internally to come to grips with Zelda’s revelation, the princess waited beside him with baited breath for her Hero to answer her declaration. The seconds dragged on as the sun nearly vanished entirely behind the horizon, the seas and sky gradually darkening into shades of purple and blue. The hope in Zelda’s eyes seemed to fade alongside it. Her smile, shy and heartfelt mere moments ago, slowly became sickly and forced. She clutched at her arms as though they were the only things holding her together.

“Y-you… It’s alright if you… If you don’t feel the same, Link.” She licked her lips, turning away, unable to face him as she struggled put on a brave face and give him an out. “I-it’s not like I’m going to- “

The realization of what was happening clicked in Link’s head and he blurted out a hasty, “No!” that was several times louder than it strictly needed to be.

Zelda jumped in alarm, blinking owlishly at the boy beside her.

“It’s not…! I mean, I don’t- I do! I do! I mean, I… Ugh!”

He shook his head, running a free-hand through his hair as though he could rake his confusion away with his fingers.

“I feel the same, Zelda. I love you too. I have for a while now.”

Had Link not been scowling at the ground in frustration, he wouldn’t have missed the way Zelda’s shoulders slumped in relief, or how her eyes slowly widened, reflecting the last vestiges of the dying sun in absolute wonder.

“But I… I don’t think that I… should…”

“That you should… what?” She stepped closer, half-raising a hand as though to reach out and touch him. “…Love me?”

“Zelda… I’m your knight.” His insides knotted up painfully as a desperation he hadn’t realized he was feeling suddenly coated his words. He needed her to understand, to know where he was coming from, even if he himself still didn’t. “I swore an oath, to protect you, to serve you, to keep you safe. What we did that night… Goddess, it feels like I’m throwing away this important part of myself.”

“Link,” she tried to interrupt, her eyes heavy with sympathy, but he ran her over.

“No! Zelda, you don’t get it! I… I haven’t felt… whole… even once since I woke up on that plateau. Entire chunks of my past, of my life, of what makes me ‘me’, are gone! And I know why, and I’m not blaming anyone, but… I’ve spent so long desperately clawing at the void in my mind, clinging to whatever scraps I could reclaim, that… I am a knight. I don’t remember a lot, but I remember that. I remember what it means to me. It’s true that I love you, that I want to be with you, forever, but I can’t… I can’t just throw that all away. It’s all I have left of who I was.”

He chanced a glance up at her, saw the pain in her eyes and felt it reverberate back in his soul. He was hurting her again. He hadn’t meant to do that, only… what was he supposed to do?! Did she not understand?! He wasn’t rejecting her because he wanted to, he had to! Else he’d risk losing what was left of him forever!

“…I don’t regret that night either, Zelda.” He whispered softly, struggling to ameliorate his tone. “It will be a night I’ll never forget. But when I think about what we did… Light, all I can think about is your father.”

“My father?”

From the startled look in her eye and her baffled tone, she’d interpreted that statement in a different way than he’d intended.

“Y-yes. Your father.”

Why had he said that? It was true enough, however…

“The last words your father spoke to me were his plea that I rescue his daughter. Even when I couldn’t remember you, in the earliest days of my journey in this ruined land, it was his desperation that kept me going. That, and the tiny voice in the back of my mind that told me it was right. I did everything in my power to keep my promise to him, but now I… Now I feel like I’ve let him down. I doubt he’d be too happy with this turn of events.”

Swallowing down her emotions, Zelda replied, “You’re right.”, forcing her voice to be calm. Link blinked, not expecting her to agree with him so readily. “He wouldn’t be. In fact, were my father still around, he’d likely have you stripped of your rank and banished from the kingdom.”

Link blanched. Somehow, hearing the confirmation of his fears come from Zelda’s lips made it seem even worse.  

“Regardless, my father is not here, Link.” She stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And neither is anyone else who might take issue with us. In the past, people like my father, the council, other rulers and law makers – well-intentioned though they might have been at the time – instituted those made-up laws and arbitrary societal niceties meant to separate us, but they’re gone now. Nobody can tell us we can’t be together, Link.

“I love how devoted you are to honoring your promise to my father, but he was not a perfect, all-knowing being. He was a man who loved his people and wanted to keep them safe, and he was also a man just as bound to those laws and societal niceties as we were. But if he could see us now, see this world we’ve been tasked with rebuilding together, see everything that we’ve been through, how I feel about you-”

“How we feel doesn’t matter!” Link snapped, suddenly irate. “He came to me! He trusted me! Even after I’d failed to protect you, even after the entire country had fallen apart, his spirit lingered to beg me – plead with me! – to save you! And this is how I repay him?! By ravaging his daughter like an animal in heat?!”

It was perhaps too crass a phrase to use in front of his princess, but Link wasn’t exactly as in control as he would have liked to have been. Her insistence that he overlook all of his hang-ups had rankled him for some reason that even he couldn’t quite explain, and he suddenly found himself livid. Zelda’s face had flushed scarlet at his colorful terminology, but her brows were slanted in anger and her eyes flashed threateningly under the newly-fallen night sky.

“If I remember correctly,” she spat, her tone like acid, “I was the one who threw herself on you, not the other way around.”

It was Link’s turn to blush. Oddly, all this time he’d been playing it over in his head that he’d let his condition that night overshadow his reasoning and take advantage of her, yet if he were being honest, he’d been virtually at her mercy, what with her being on top of him and him still weak from his injury. She really had been quite forceful.

“And in any event, you kept your promise to my father. You rescued me, you delivered our people from the Calamity. What more can he possibly ask of you?! He trusted you to keep me safe and you did, but he has no right to lay claim over either of our hearts! Goddesses, he never had anything but praise for you! Constantly comparing me to you, how prepared you were, how calm, how professional- how on earth could you think that he would not approve of you?!”

“Because I’m not…! I’m not…”

He reached, but couldn’t find the words. He wasn’t… what? A prince? A noble? True, he knew that, and he didn’t want to be, but… that wasn’t the problem. But he was closer now. So close.  

“Would you give up being a knight then? Is that what you wish? To be free of me and your ‘guilt’?”

“N-no! Zelda, that’s not it at all!”

“Good, because I wouldn’t let you go!” She was shouting now, her fists clenched in rage, the intimidation she was going for somewhat undercut by the raw emotion in her voice. “I need you, Link! Not just because I love you, not just because you’re my friend, or because I rely on you so heavily – I need you because nobody else could possibly understand what it’s been like for us! This, what we have, it’s special… or it would be, if you could just let yourself be part of it!”

“I… Zelda, I want to, but…”

“So what would you have me do?” Zelda pushed on angrily. “Live my life celibate and alone, not passing on the Bloodline of the Goddess and dooming our future descendants? Beg some foreign prince from a far-off land to marry me, ignorant of how destitute our country is, how we’d have no martial, economic, or political sway to resist being swallowed up by another kingdom, our citizens and our resources subject to their will? What is the answer, Link? What other path lies before me?”

Link’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. He didn’t know how to answer her, but it didn’t matter, because she had clearly gotten herself worked up and wasn’t about to give him room to talk anyway. He rather felt like he had placed himself squarely in the path of a herd of charging Lynel.

“As far as I’m concerned, Hero, there are only two options. Since you will not abandon your oaths to me and I cannot bear the thought of losing you, we can either continue on as we have been, pretending that our affection for one another is purely platonic and work together to rebuild this nation as we were planning to before; at the end of our lives, we’ll either wind up alone or in loveless marriages- “

“Stop being dramatic,” Link scoffed, annoyed, “why on earth would your marriage be loveless?”

“-and we’ll pass on with our hearts full of regret and sadness.” She raised her voice and spoke over him, not acknowledging that he had spoken, though her eyes looked positively murderous. “Or, we can take the other path- you throw aside the silliness in your head and give in to what you really want, marry me and continue to work together to rebuild the nation- “

“Wait, what? M-marriage?!”

“-with you as both my knight and consort, and we live happily together ever after. Along both paths, we stay together and you keep your promise to my father by watching over me and keeping me safe. The only difference is our individual happiness.”

Link was still gaping, trying to come to terms with the fact that Zelda just openly announced she wanted to marry him, but the princess wasn’t done just yet.

“The choice is yours, Link,” she pressed on, stepping in closer so that the two were eye-to-eye. Her viridian irises were burning with determination. “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t be together. One that doesn’t involve my father or our kingdom’s outdated laws.”

“I-I…”

“You can’t, can you? Because you haven’t got one.”

 “Zelda- “

“You want to be with me, Link. Nothing is here to stop you.”

He said nothing. His heart was hammering in his throat. She was so close, now. Her eyes were drilling into his skull like augers.

Finally, her angry expression broke. Her shoulders slumped, her lips pursed, her eyes despairing, imploring. In a quiet voice, she whispered, “What is holding you back, Link?”

“It’s me!” He blurted out, throwing his hands into the air in submission. “I am! I’m the problem here! Never, not once in my life, have I ever felt good enough for you! And I don’t even mean romantically, either – even back when I was first appointed as your knight, I never felt like I was worthy of it! I’m just some fool with a sword – barely a knight, and only that because the Master Sword ‘chose’ me. You’re… you. How can you…? How could you possibly…?!”

He trailed off, suddenly mortified. He hadn’t meant to say all of that, hadn’t even realized that that was what was bothering him until the words came tumbling out of his mouth. The fact that it was true was all the more embarrassing.

The thing of it was, though, the moment he said the words aloud, it was as though he could see how foolish he was being. Perhaps it was because he’d been granted all this time alone with Zelda over the past few weeks, time in which the two were permitted to act like regular people and not Princess and Champion, time not being scrutinized under the watchful, weighing gazes of others. The princess he had held on a pedestal in his past was still there, still in his mind’s eye, but more prominent than that was the image of his Zelda; awkward, a little selfish, headstrong to a fault, overzealous, a terrible cook. She was still his princess, yes, but she was so much more than that. And nobody else knew it better than him.

For her part, she was currently staring at him in wide-eyed stupefaction.

“How?!” she finally blurted out, her voice loud and ironic, “How is it that, of the two of us, you are the one who’s insecure?”

Link looked away, abashed. He wanted to melt into the floor and die. Why didn’t the Sheikah slate come with some sort of ‘turn back time’ feature? He could really use a do-over right about now…

“I mean, honestly.” Zelda continued in a huff, “Here you are, the Champion of Hyrule, the man who drew the Master Sword, feller of thousands of monsters, who, after a hundred years, liberated the Divine Beasts, saved my people, single-handedly retook Hyrule Castle, defeated the Calamity, ending one-hundred years of oppression and ruin, and saved my life… and you are the one who feels insecure?!”

Link said nothing. Well sure, when she put it like that it sounded great, but that’s not exactly how it had all gone down and she knew that.  

After another moment of silence in which Link stewed in a highly uncomfortable, shameful silence, Zelda let out a quiet scoff.

“And to think they call you the courageous one…”

Link flinched. Ok, that was a little uncalled for. And it stung.

Turning to Zelda to give her a piece of his mind, he was caught off-guard by the sight of her moving forward, closing the distance between them, her hands raising to the level of his head. He flinched away as though she were going to smack him, but she caught him by the sides of his face and pulled him down, capturing his lips with her own.

Several heartbeats passed. Her lips tasted like salt, and their skin was sticky with the humidity, but she was warm and familiar and real. After a time, she broke away and sought his gaze, her eyes boring into his own.

“I love you, Link.” She whispered, her tone firm and sincere and a little breathless. “All of you. Not just the Hero, not just my knight. I love you. Even when you’re being sarcastic or overly protective, even when you try to bottle things up inside… I’ve loved you since before the Calamity, and I will love you from now until the end of our lives, no matter if you accept my feelings or not. Please… we keep telling each other that we have to give our all to help Hyrule get back on its feet… but how can we expect to change our country if we can’t even change ourselves?”

The old-him was still there inside of him, still urging him to step away from the princess, to remember his place… but as he looked into her eyes, the voice was slowly growing smaller and smaller, replaced by the new him. The ‘Link’ that had awoken, memory-less and alone atop that lofty plateau. The ‘Link’ who had begun to fill the void in his head with new memories and friendships with the people he’d met and the places he’d seen. The ‘Link’ who had fought and bled and suffered to clean up the old Link’s mistakes.

The person he used to be he could hardly remember, but he knew that he had been filled with insecurities and self-doubt, so adversely affected by the pressures placed upon him that he had given up speaking if only so he could pretend like he had it all under control. The person he used to be had failed in his duties to protect both Hyrule and its princess. And though the person he used to be would always be a part of him, and though there were memories in his past that he could never let go of… it suddenly occurred to him that he was desperately clinging on to the to a version of him who had failed.

It was the new Link who had accomplished what the old Link could not. And there were a multitude of reasons for why this was, but at the moment, what stood out to Link the most was that in the past, he had been a Champion who was trying to protect the princess, whereas in the present, he had just been Link, fighting to save Zelda. The same Zelda who was even now staring desperately into his eyes, trying to make him see reason.

Everything he had obtained in this new life, everything that had value, he had had to reach out and take for himself in both hands. Nothing had been handed to him for free. Why on earth should that stop being true now?

So in honor of that truth, Link reached out, resting his hands on Zelda’s hips, slowly pulling her in closer.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, and her eyes began to darken. “…but you’re right.”

She blinked, not comprehending, and he smiled.

“The second path seems like the better option. Besides, how could I marry anyone else if I spend all of my time looking at you- ?“

He cut off with a strangled ‘Hurk!’ as the Princess of Hyrule practically launched herself at him, her arms tightening around his neck in a veritable strangle hold. He caught her around the waist reflexively, but his attempt to fall back against the bolder wound up failing without his arms to aid him and in a confused tangle of limbs and laughter, the duo crashed down onto the sand.

Dizzy and winded, it took Link a moment to realize Zelda was lying on top of him, her head on his chest, giggling and crying, heedless of the wind and the sand and the sea shells digging into Link’s back.

“Oh goddesses…” she mumbled through watery chuckled. “You would not believe… how hard it was for me to work up the courage to say all of that.”

He could imagine. Though how she could ever be nervous about confessing her feelings, he’d never understand. Could she not see herself the way he did?

He gave Zelda a moment to collect herself, and a minute later she had pushed herself upright, though she was still on top of him, her legs straddling his waist as she gazed lovingly down at him, a dopey smile on her face, her hair literally everywhere.

He set his hands on her hips instinctually, and their eyes met. Memories of the last time Zelda had been atop Link flashed through both of their minds, and together they blushed. Rather than get flustered and crawl off of him, however, a sudden, unexpectedly coy smirk flashed its way across Zelda’s face.

“So…” She drawled seductively, lowering herself so that more of her torso was in contact with Link’s body. “Now that we’ve gotten all of that sorted out… Want to pick up where we left off the other night?”

Something animalistic inside of him roared in approval, but he kept his face as bland as was humanly possible.

“Right here.” He replied, deadpan. “Right here on the beach, out in the open, where anyone, even little children, could come walking by at any moment. And you, the Princess of Hyrule, want to fool around.”

Her face flushed completely scarlet, all sensual pretense lost.

“O-oh, well… I hadn’t thought of… I mean, I-I was just caught up in the...” She moved to push herself upright again, but Link reached out and caught her, dragging her surprised face down to his, capturing her lips. The angle was a little odd, her hair was more than a little in the way, and their skin was sticky and covered in sand. It was perfect.

A moment later she was straightening back up, slightly breathless, pushing her loose hair hastily from her face.

“Well.” She exclaimed, red-faced, “I suppose we should return to the cabin we rented. It’s been a long day, and you haven’t had supper yet.”

“Sounds good to me.” Link replied, moving as though he were going to stand. Zelda, however, had yet to get off him.

He shot her an expectant look, and instead of complying, she looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

“Or… If you would prefer, we could head off to the woods for a bit…”

“Why would we do that?” Link asked. There was a hollow space in his stomach that was demanding food now that she had brought it up.

“Well, you know, I was thinking we could go on a romantic stroll, take in some of the scenery… and the walls of our cabin are rather thin…”

She glanced back hesitantly, and their eyes met once again. Understanding bloomed in Link’s brain, and a devilish smirk flashed across his lips.

“Romantic stroll, huh?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” She replied airily. “I suppose I’ll have to go by myself then-“

She cut off with a shriek as Link scooped her into his arms and rose to his feet in one fluid movement. A moment later he was breaking for the tree line, his kidnapped princess in his arms, the once-quiet beach now flooded with the sounds of scandalized laughter.


	17. The Great Plateau

Somehow, paradoxically, the Temple of Time seemed grander in ruin than the ostentatious edifice ever had in the olden days, when the building had been alive and thriving, the very heart of Hyrulean worship.

From overhead, a solitary ray of midafternoon sunlight beamed down through one of the many cracks and fissures in the dilapidated ceiling, illuminating particles of dust that glimmered like fairies as they drifted languidly through the otherwise stagnant air. The light came to rest across the stony visage of Zelda’s only companion, creating the illusion of warmth in a place where Zelda knew nothing but cold, unyielding silence truly existed.

The air around her was thick with the scent of must and the indomitable weight of history. Between the Goddess and the Princess, silence reigned.

She was alone. Finally. She loved Link dearly, but his overprotective streak had an annoying tendency to interfere with her scheming, particularly when it came to things she’d rather keep private. If he had known what it was she wanted to come here for, he undoubtedly would have had reservations about it.

To be fair, she couldn’t blame him. The idea behind this sudden, unexpected deviation from their scheduled route had seized upon her mind with some perverse fascination, and though she knew it was almost certainly pointless, there was a part of her that wouldn’t be able to let the idea go until she at least gave it a try.

That was the problem, however. She managed to get here, and to successfully convince Link to leave her be for a little while so as to obtain the privacy she so desperately required, and yet… now that she was here, now that it was time, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She was terrified.

What if she was wrong?

Goddesses, what if she was right?!

Frustrated with herself and her own insecurity, she forced her mouth to open, her throat painfully dry, yet still she could not find the will to speak.

_Did I disappoint you?_

She was kneeling on the ground, dust scuffing her knees, hands clasped at her breast, staring without comprehending at the blank, emotionless face that towered impassively before her.

There was nothing here. Nothing at all. Not any longer. It’s possible that there never was. At least… not for her.

Why? Why had she come? What did she think she would find, here in this forgotten place? There was nothing here any longer, nothing but her. The Temple was a wreck, a ruin. The bloated, decaying corpse of Hyrule’s once great and fabled past. A mausoleum wherein memories of former grandeur were forever enshrined, at least until the walls fell away completely, torn apart by the elements, by the unfeeling, uncaring natural world.

Yet even knowing all of that, here she was, once again prostrated before a Goddess who had never cared.

Perhaps that was the reason. Old habits and all of that. Once again faced with the prospect of a daunting, uncertain future, she’d subconsciously found herself migrating towards the figure that had once been her only source of hope, and again, just as with every time before, her pilgrimage brought her nothing but silence and unanswered questions.

If she were being completely honest with herself, however, she knew why she had come. Why, even knowing as she did that the Goddess had never spoken to her, she had still chosen to abase herself before her image. She could feel the reason, pressing against her side from the pouch at her waist. A little notebook, tattered and worn, bound crudely with twine. A gift she’d just been given from her Hero only a few short hours ago. A gift that burned with guilt and shame and pain.

_Do you hate me for failing you?_

Visiting the Great Plateau had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, an earnest plea she’d made to her Hero that morning, artfully posed as merely a light-hearted diversion, one he’d been unable to deny her for all that it was technically a waste of their time. She and her Hero ought to have left Lurelin Village and headed straight for the ruins of Castle Town where members of the Sheikah tribe had been waiting for them for some time. Journey completed, she would meet with them and, finally, the process of restoration would begin.

Castle Town would come first, of course, and with it came the reclaiming of barren farmlands, the securing of roadways, the extermination of local monster infestations. A political summit would have to be arranged sooner rather than later; a meeting of the races, to consolidate and unify resources and reconstruction efforts. Then would come the coronation. She would finally, after a hundred years’ delay, be named Queen of Hyrule.

She swallowed thickly in a vain attempt to quell the rising panic in her throat.

It was the realization that her ‘free-time’ with Link was coming to an end and her real responsibilities were about to begin that had spurred this little detour more than anything. That, and her sudden, childish unwillingness to confront her future.  

She’d never wanted to be queen. And though she thought she’d put this all behind her, though her duty remained even now engraved firmly upon her heart, she knew, with a profound certainty that rocked her to her absolute core, that she was not ready. Not yet, not now. Maybe not ever.

After all, how could she be? How could she be trusted to restore and rule the country when she’d already proven herself unfit for the task?

Unbidden, familiar words bubbled up from the recesses of her subconscious.

_“…you are the heir to a throne of nothing… nothing but failure.”_

Her lip quivered, her hands sliding down to grip her upper arms, and in a wild burst of fear and anger she snarled up at the statue of the Goddess as though the words had come from her, but still no sound came from her lips. She had nothing to say to Hylia, nothing that hadn’t been said before.

Ans after all, it wasn’t really the Goddess she was seeking, nor the Goddess with whom she was truly upset.

In her wilder moments, in her darker fantasies, there were times when Zelda had even questioned whether the Goddess had been real at all. Those thoughts would have been decried as sacrilege had anyone but herself been privy to them, and at times in her guilt she wondered if her lack of faith and love of research was the true cause behind her inability to access the divine sealing power she supposedly carried in her blood.

Hylia must have known, she thought. Must have sensed that beneath her outward shows of zealous devotion to piety and prayer, there existed a kernel of resentment within the princess of Hyrule. She was punishing her for her infidelity. For her lack of faith. And in doing so, she was dooming the world to ruin.

Or at least… that was how it had seemed to her at the time.

Hindsight, however, painted things in a very different light. The key to unlocking her powers had never been prayer. And certainly, she supposed that the Goddess could have simply given her a sign, sent her some sort of vision or dream that detailed exactly what she needed to do… but then, had Hylia not done just that? Had Zelda not been given the very thing she’d needed all along?

She’d asked for instruction, for guidance, for help… and she’d been given Link. She’d balked at the time, treated him with cruelty and disdain, burned with jealousy that he had seemingly drawn the sword and fulfilled his obligations with little to no personal effort, but ultimately, over time, she had fallen in love with him, and it was that love that had finally unlocked her powers.

She hadn’t known that was the answer, had no way of knowing what it was she’d been missing, but to pin the blame of all that had happened on some faceless Goddess felt pointless and ineffectual, just as all her prayers and pilgrimages had been.

It wasn’t Hylia’s fault that the Calamity had existed, nor that it sought the destruction of everything Zelda held dear. It wasn’t Hylia’s fault that Zelda’s mother had passed away when she was so young, robbing Zelda of her teacher and dooming her to years of fruitless study and seemingly endless despair. And it wasn’t Hylia’s fault that Zelda had been so lonely, so starved for affection and love in her youth that she was unable to recognize or express the growing feelings she’d had for Link before it was too late.

She had made her peace with Hylia while trapped within the confines of Hyrule Castle, while lost within the waking nightmare that was the Calamity. The Goddess was neither the determiner of fate nor the arbiter of justice. Zelda had asked for the tools necessary to save her people, and she had been given them. The failure to recognize or act upon them had been uniquely Zelda’s. To blame her tragedies upon a Goddess was childish and naïve.

Destiny, she had decided, may play a part in the goings-on of the world, as much as luck or chance, but ultimately it was human will that decided the course of history. Destiny may have been the driving factor that enabled Link to draw the Master Sword, but it was not destiny that bade his arm to rise, blade in hand, to face the evils that threatened to destroy all that they held dear. He did that on his own.

She could not claim credit for her triumphs in holding the Calamity at bay for a century and sealing him away in the end if she then turned around blamed her misfortunes on another, even a faceless goddess. Her successes and her failures were hers and hers alone, and she needed to learn to accept that. And perhaps it was merely because Zelda had had enough of feeling powerless as the world sped by without her, but whatever it was, it felt right. Taking life in her hands, being the arbiter of her own future. The thought had a nice ring to it.

Perhaps that was why she had grown so fond of researching ancient Sheikah technologies back in the day. Because it was in doing so that she found a little of what she had for so long been deprived.

Purah and Robbie and Impa had treated her with such kindness, such warmth and affection that she had always felt welcome with them. When they were together, she felt like she belonged, like she didn’t need to worry about who she was disappointing; they showered her with their approval, and certainly some of it was because she was the princess, yes, but even at a young age she could see that the friendship and acceptance in their eyes was real.

And when she devoted her time and energies to her studies, she saw results. There was no endless spiral of repetitive failures, no years spent with her wheels spinning useless in the mud. She learned that when she put her mind to something and worked hard, she could usually accomplish the task. Her experiences were rewarding, her failures enlightening, and she could improve! Attain the admiration of her peers, contribute to society in a meaningful way! For the first time, her life had had a purpose that actually seemed attainable!

Until her father came, and took it away.

She frowned, drawing in on herself self-consciously. That wasn’t fair. She knew that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his fault… He wasn’t trying to be cruel… And yet…

And yet…

Deep in her heart, she resented him.

Guilt ate away at her for even acknowledging that kernel of negativity that resided in her soul. That wasn’t how a proper princess should think, how a daughter should think. Particularly not when her father was dead. Particularly not when she was indirectly responsible for his death.

She physically shuddered, shying away from the thought. She was wasting time. There wasn’t any sense in sitting here in the dust, wasting away what little time she had bought for herself. She needed to be brave. She needed to be strong. She needed to stop procrastinating while she glowered at a statue of the Goddess.

She had come here for one reason, and one reason only.

To hash things out with her father.

Assuming that was even possible.

Before, she would have agreed that it wasn’t without a second-thought, and yet… Her father, King Rhoam, a hundred years dead, had allegedly lingered on as a spirit in order to aid Link on his journey. If he had somehow managed to do that, to defy the very laws of nature laid down by the Goddesses themselves, then surely it was at least possible that some part of him still remained tethered to this place. And if so, then… then perhaps, in the presence of his daughter, he might…

A confusing cluster of emotions trembled inside of her. She wanted to see him, more than anything… yet at the same time she was terrified of what he might say. Or what she might say.

Perhaps coming here was a mistake…

No, stop that. She had come all this way, and she might never get another chance like this. She needed to stop wasting time. Link wouldn’t be gone foraging for food forever.

Unsticking her throat, mustering all her courage, Zelda forced herself to speak.

“…Papa?”

A century of dust seemed to muffle her voice. She sounded so weak, so frail. Other than the chirping of birds and the occasional gust of wind, no other sound could be heard.

Swallowing down her nerves, she tried again.

“Papa, are you… Can you hear me?”

There was no response. The temple remained as silent as the statue of its Goddess.

Zelda’s hands were trembling. She felt immensely foolish, speaking to nothing like this, but as the silence echoed out loud around her a fierce sort of anger and denial erupted within her breast, overriding the more rational understanding that there was no one here, and that there hadn’t been for a very long time.

“Father, please! If you’re here… if you can hear me, I… I-it’s me, it’s Zelda!”

Her voice had taken on a desperate note, but still no one answered. Heart pounding against her ribcage, she twisted around, eyes raking the empty, desolate ruins for some sign of movement, of life, but found nothing.

No… No, this could not be…! Was it all a waste after all?! Was this not the place Link had seen his spirit appear? Spoken to him? Received his direction and guidance?!

His spirit had clung to this world, defying the natural order, solely to help Link, to direct his path. Even in his journal, which they had found in his makeshift hut and which she now held safely tucked away in her pouch, he had gone out of his way to express to Link words of encouragement and advice.

Where, then, were his final words for his daughter?!

There was a sound behind her, like the subtle shifting of the wind, and Zelda jerked around, heart leaping into her throat, hardly daring to believe it could be true, only to see a tail-end of a dragonfly swooping away through an open window.

She was alone.

Just her and the dust.

Just her, and an age of forgotten memories.

The princess and the silent statue.

The tears were spilling hot and wet down her face now, but she hardly noticed them.

Why… why did he not answer? Why did he never answer?! She knew it was a long-shot from the start, yet still his absence stung like a blade through her chest. For as long as she could remember, he’d been this way. Indifferent to her pleas, to her pains, to her struggles, always pressuring her, pushing her forward towards a destiny which for the life of her she could not seem to grasp. Always, his eyes so full of disappointment.

And had she not tried her best?! Every day, for hours on end, praying and pleading to a goddess who for all accounts seemed mute to her desperation! Every day, weeks upon months upon years of fruitless, pointless, soul-crushing failures! And every day, he would come to her to gauge her progress only to be met with another day’s worth of failures and excuses. It seemed to her in her youth that disappointment never left her father’s eyes.

Princess Zelda, his only daughter.

The girl who could not do the one thing she was born for.

Had he regretted her existence, there in those final days? Wished he’d had another daughter before his wife had passed away? It had certainly seemed so to Zelda. Why else would he limit his contact with her, forcing her to participate in hours of rigorous religious study or seclude herself in silent prayer? Why else push her into journeying to visit the Sacred Springs if only to get her out of the castle where he wouldn’t have to see her anymore? His daughter the failure. His daughter the mistake.

He couldn’t even be bothered to leave her any sort of farewell. Though he had time for Link, she noticed.

It was a mistake, coming here. Hoping she’d be able to see him one last time. The foolish wish that some last vestige of his being had lingered on just for her. It wasn’t fair.

She wanted to see him. To scream at him. Hurl all her pain and anguish at him for what he put her through. Throw her arms around him and weep against his chest like she’d never been able to. Beg for his forgiveness for always letting him down. For failing to awaken her powers before the Calamity broke free. For not being able to prevent his death. For not being a good enough daughter. There would be no catharsis for this, it would seem, not for her.

Her tears fell impotently upon the dusty floor, and she fell apart around them. The Goddess remained unmoved, indifferent to her pain, to her tribulation. Just as always.

Over the sounds of her sobs, she almost missed the scuffle of approaching footsteps until the familiar sound of boots began tapping across the aged stone floor.

“Zelda?”

She lifted her head, her eyes wide, her face red and blotchy. For a moment, wild, senseless hope blossomed inside of her until her eyes fell upon the newly arrived figure and she connected his voice with his familiar, concerned face.

It was Link. He’d finally come back from foraging for dinner.

Whatever he was going to say died on his tongue as he took her in, his princess huddled over on the floor, sobbing. He was at her side in a heartbeat like he always was whenever she needed him, and before he could ask what was wrong she’d already flung herself into his arms, clinging to his neck like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning.

“Whoa!” He yelped, surprised, nearly tumbling back onto his rear as the force of her tackle nearly unbalanced him. “Z-Zelda, what-?”

“Why isn’t he here?!” She found herself wailing almost incomprehensibly into his shoulder, one hundred years of heartache staining the front of her Hero’s tunic. “I c-called and called, but he refuses to answer!”

“Who are you talking about?” He asked, bewildered.

“My father!”

“Your-? Oh. _Oh…”_ Understanding flooded through his eyes, and moment later he was rocking her in his arms, running his fingers through her hair. “Zelda… Zelda, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why won’t he answer me?!” She continued, her voice somehow managing to croak and squeak at the same time. “D-doesn’t… Doesn’t he know… I need him?! Does he h-hate me that much?!”

She didn’t know what was possessing her to say all of this. She could barely form the words, regardless, yet they continued to flow out of her mouth unbidden like cider from a broken barrel spout. She was in so much pain, so much more than she’d been in since before the Calamity.

Somehow, in this place, the death of her father felt fresh and new. In spite of their rocky relationship, or perhaps because of it, her need to see him one last time had overcome all rational thought. She had never been able to be what he wanted, but he was still her father, and she loved him. And now she’d never be able to tell him that, or how sorry she was for how everything had turned out.

The next few minutes were sort of a blur for Zelda, with her weeping and mumbling random, unintelligible things into her bewildered Hero’s chest, but she must have verbally unloaded most of her baggage concerning her father onto Link because by the time she’d finally calmed down a little Link was already working on easing her conscience.

“Zelda…” he murmured softly yet sternly into her ear. “Your father loved you. You know that.”

“No.” She whispered, emotionally spent. “My father put up with me.”

“He adored you.” Link countered, voice firm. “You were the light of his life, and you know it.”

“Don’t tell me what I know, Link.” She shot back, a bit more harshly than she’d intended. “My memories of those days are better than yours, and I think I know a bit more about how my father’s mind worked than you do.”

“Perhaps.” He conceded gently, clearly not trying to stoke her ire. “But I don’t have to remember what he was like then to know what I’m talking about. I’ve read his diary.”

She let out a rude snort if only to hide the fresh wave of pain that rolled over her.

“So have I.” She retorted, tone blunt like the edge of a moblin’s club. “From the final words of my father, you’d hardly know he had a daughter. I was just a footnote on a page meant to inspire you to greatness-“

“Stop it.” Link cut in, an edge of reproach to his voice. “That isn’t fair and you know it. And in any event, that’s not the diary I’m talking about. I meant his personal diary, the one he kept in his study in Hyrule Castle.”

Zelda pulled away from Link slowly, blinking up at him with red, blotchy eyes.

“H-his personal diary?”

“I don’t have it with me,” he replied, sounding regretful, “but as soon as we get back to the Sheikah I’ll go in and get it for you. You really need to read it, Zelda. He talks about how impressed he was you’re your strength, how hard it was for him to push you like he had to, how he regretted always scolding you. The last entry…”

Here, Link’s voice took on a surprisingly emotional note, and he had to pause to swallow before continuing.

“His last entry… was just after we left for the Spring of Wisdom. In it, he talked about how he regretted forcing all those years of study on you, and how he was going to speak kindly to you and let you resume your research on the ancient technology if you returned from the Spring unsuccessful. He wrote it not as a king, but as a father waiting for his daughter’s return. But we never saw him again.”

Zelda stared at Link in silence, her heart beating sluggishly in her chest. She wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that her father had regretted their strained relationship, but…

“Link,” she began, her voice raspy, but to her surprise Link ran her over.

“Do you know why he pressured you so hard to find a way to unlock your sealing power?”

“Because I was the only one who could do it, and without it all hope against the Calamity was lost.”

“Well, yes,” Link replied, scratching his head awkwardly, “but I meant on a more personal level.”

Zelda frowned.

“Did he even need a personal reason? He was the king, he had an entire nation to save. What reason would he need beyond that?”

“That’s true.” He conceded. “King Rhoam was, if nothing else, a great king. Kind, hard-working, compassionate… I don’t remember very much about him, but I know that I held him in high regard. He was a great man, the kind that I was proud to swear allegiance to.

“But have you ever paused to consider what the Calamity might have meant to you father as an individual? Don’t get me wrong, Zelda, this is just conjecture, but… The Calamity meant the end of the world, the loss of his nation, and the death of everyone he knew and loved… and there was nobody he loved more than you.

“If you failed to stop the Calamity, it meant that you would die. And I don’t think your father could bear even the thought of that, especially not after having lost your mother. I barely remember my sister, but still the pain of losing her tears me apart inside. You were the light of his life, Zelda. He would have done anything to keep you safe, even if it meant pushing you so hard that you wound up hating him.”

She was teetering, now. She wanted so badly to believe Link’s words, conjecture or not. Her heart ached to know it was true, to believe that her father had cared about her that much, but her own personal experience seemed overwhelmingly in favor of the opposite conclusion.

“The light of his life.” Zelda scoffed softly, turning away. “How can you possibly know that he felt that way about me?”

“Because you’re the light of mine.” He replied simply.

The sheer honesty in his voice caught her off-guard and made her smile in spite of herself.

“I know that I don’t remember him as well as you do, Zelda,” Link continued gently, “but please take my word for it until you can read his diary for yourself. He loved you, and you were always in his thoughts. Everything he did was for you. He may not have been perfect, but he did his best. Try not to fault him for that.”

“If he cared about me that much,” she croaked, “then why… why won’t he answer my calls?

“I know that he is dead,” she cut in hastily when she saw Link open his mouth, “and I know… I know that I am being foolish… But if he held out so long for you, then why… why couldn’t he do anything for me?”

Link sighed. “I don’t know, Zelda. I really don’t know. Maybe the Goddess wouldn’t allow it any longer. Maybe he thought you were strong enough that you didn’t need him. Maybe he thought that you wouldn’t want to see him. It’s possible that he felt the same way that you do now; that he was too harsh on you, and that you must have grown to hate him.”

Something inside of her twanged painfully at that last bit, and it must have shown in her eyes because a sudden understanding shown in her Hero’s face.

“Zelda…” He began, lowering his voice as though he were speaking to an injured animal. “If you could see your father now, what would you tell him?”

“What does that matter?” She asked, dodging his question. “He isn’t here.”

“Perhaps not.” Link replied softly, “But that doesn’t mean he isn’t listening. We’re here, in the Temple of Time, before the Goddess Hylia. Maybe she’ll be kind enough to deliver your message.”

“The Goddess has never done anything for me.” Zelda spat, suddenly vehement. “When I speak to her, she is deaf to my words. Why should that be different now?”

 “Then tell me.”

She frowned, uncomfortable. “Why are you being so persistent?”

“Because I think it would be good for you to get this off your chest.” He replied simply, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We’ll be in Castle Town tomorrow. You’ll need a clear head and a clear heart if you’re going to get us going on the right foot.”

She sighed and pulled away, rising to her feet and taking a few steps to put distance between them.

“You’re being awfully nosy today.” She remarked, stalling.

“I tend to get concerned when I find the woman I love weeping on the floor.” He replied sardonically.

She shot him a glare, but from the expectant look on his face, he clearly wasn’t going to budge on this.

Well, fine then. If he wanted her to vent, then she would vent!

“You want to know what I would say to my father if he were here right now?” She finally spat, glowering at Link. He nodded patiently as though she were honestly expecting his answer. “I would ask him why it was he never saw fit to teach me how to rule a country!

“Here I am, on the verge of finally taking my place as queen, and the only thing I’m certain of is that I am decidedly not prepared for this! Most of my youth was devoted to finding some way to unlock my Sealing Powers – I only know the basics about economics, or taxes, or law, or how to run a government! Why, if he was so concerned about the future, did he never prepare me for it?!”

Link opened his mouth as if to answer, but Zelda had the bit in her teeth now, pacing back and forth between Link and the Goddess like an agitated cat.

“And why was he always so cold, so distant?! Did he really think treating me like a leper was going to activate my Sealing Powers?! I was still a child, a young girl! I needed my father to be my father! But he never had anything for me but disappointment and disdain!

“But that isn’t even the worst of it! The worst part is that no matter how coldly he treated me, how many times I failed to live up to his expectations, I still yearned for his approval! I yearn for it still! Goddesses, it eats away at me, knowing that I was never good enough for him, knowing that I’ll never get the chance prove my worth! He’s gone, because of me! Because I wasn’t good enough! I didn’t learn quickly enough! I brought about my own father’s death!”

She had stopped pacing now, staring up at the statue of the Goddess as though by confessing her sins to her she could somehow find relief for the pain she was carrying inside.

Her ire was suddenly gone. There was no more rage, or anger, or frustration. She merely felt tired. Tired of trying so hard. Tired of running.

“I just wanted to see him one more time…”

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, she felt Link’s arms envelope her from behind. Instinctually, she settled comfortably into his familiar embrace, without resistance.

“I know, Zelda.” He whispered, squeezing her tight. “I know. He wanted to see you too.”

“And to tell him,” she continued, her voice starting to crack, “how… how sorry I am… for everything…”

“He’s sorry too.”

“And how much I…” her tongue felt thick and clumsy, her throat constricting painfully, choking off her last words, “how much… I love him…”

“He knows, Zelda.” Link soothed gently, rocking her in his arms. “He knows. And he loves you too. So, so much.”

She broke down again, then. Crying for what felt like the thousandth time. In a removed sort of way, she wondered if the day would ever come when her tears would cease.

In front of her, the statue of the Goddess Hylia remained just as stationary and immobile as ever, yet… perhaps it was a trick of the light, some hallucination brought on by grief and heartache, but to Zelda, in that moment, the Goddess’s face seemed somehow less stern, less unforgiving. There was almost the ghost of compassion in her weathered face, of understanding.

Maybe Link was right. Maybe she had simply needed to give voice to her problems. For though she had failed in what she came here to do, though the ghost of her father had not appeared to her to offer her any of the wisdom and guidance she so desperately needed, she had managed to somewhat lessen the burden of guilt and pain that had weighed her down since time out of mind. Her shoulders felt less heavy, her spirit more free.

And maybe Link was correct about another thing as well… Zelda had spent years praying to the Goddess for aid in unlocking her Sealing Power, yet had been unable to recognize the answer even when it was at her side for months on end. Perhaps it was much the same with her father. Maybe he didn’t answer her cries for help because he knew that she had Link. Someone who would always be there for her, to laugh with, to love, to keep her safe and put her back together whenever she fell apart. Perhaps he knew that his role as her father was now superfluous, and he had stepped back to allow his daughter room to grow.

Ultimately, she would never know the truth. She still wished she could see him, one last time. But Hyrule was ready to move on, and she was going to have to be ready to move on with it. To leave the past in the past, along with all their pain and the memories of the fallen. Take a bold step forward into the unknown. With Link by her side, she knew she could do it.

Silently, cradled in Link’s arms, she gazed up at the statue of the Goddess and softly bid her father farewell.


	18. An Ending, and A Beginning

The cry of a distant hawk pierced the chill midmorning sky as a turbulent breeze, heavy with the promise of the swiftly approaching winter, swept across the viridian fields of Central Hyrule. Though his companion lagged behind, huddled over in their saddle in a vain attempt to shy away from the wind, the Hero remained upright, his cheeks pink with the cold and his eyes bright with anticipation. It had been so long, so very long, but now, finally, after these weeks… he was home.

Without an ounce of fanfare, the Hero rode once more into Castle Town.

Despite two months not being a terribly long time (especially compared to his previous century-long sabbatical) the town had already changed so much during Link’s absence that it had become almost unrecognizable. Sure, more than half of the living quarters were still little more than thickly-padded tents, but an astonishing number of wooden buildings had been erected since last he’d been in town, a testament to the fortitude of the Hyrulean people and the tireless dedication of their princess.

Though still relatively small, the population of the town now easily rivaled that of Hateno, and as he and his companion made their way into market along what served as a passable main street, they swiftly found themselves engulfed in the throng of Castle Town’s newest inhabitants; a veritable army of everyday people doing their best to live normal lives.

Children frolicked up and down the streets, kicking balls or chasing one another with sticks, playing the games that children play. Harried women made trips from newly-dug wells, slogging heavy buckets dripping with water. The only sound louder than the clucking of cuccos or the mewling of livestock was the constant staccato of hammers, either from one of the numerous construction projects being levied all over the town or else from the brand-new forge that had been built at some point during his absence, the powerful knell of the blacksmith’s hammer echoing loud and clear into the street, as sweet as any music Link had ever heard.

Peaceful. Somehow, he still couldn’t quit marveling over that fact. Everything now was so… peaceful.

A few of the townsfolk glanced up from their morning chores to examine the duo of travelers, those who knew them pausing to raise a hand in welcome, calling out greetings and promises to catch up later when they weren’t so busy. From his vantage point atop his horse, Link spotted Koko and Cottla darting past, so absorbed in their game that they didn’t even see him. Pikango caught his attention from atop a nearby roof where he was busy surveying the town, paintbrush in hand. A trio of familiar Leviathan scholars stood arguing under a half-finished awning, completely ignorant of the world around them as they debated the mysteries of the past.

There were so many more people here than he remembered there being before he left. Now that word had gotten out and the roads were safer to travel, Castle Town was well and truly coming into its own.

Merchants lined the streets behind hastily erected stalls or else laying out their wares on blankets, men and women from all around, Lurelin, Tabantha, Akkala, Eldin, the Gerudo or the Goron or the Rito, selling everything from food and clothing to pots and pans, knives, pins, or jewelry, exotic spices, various knickknacks, ancient treasures salvaged from their ruined past...

But Link had no time to stop to peruse their collections, nor to catch up with his friends, many of whom he hadn’t seen in quite some time. This was the first time he’d been back to Castle Town since summer’s end, and while he very much trusted his princess’s safety to the dedicated Sheikah, he was itching to see her again, to confirm her well-being with his own eyes, to simply be in her presence...

It had been so long… so very long…

Two months past, after having only returned to Castle Town from their journey for a few months, she’d sent him off as an ambassador of sorts to Goron City and the Rito Village, along with a handful of others, to attend a series of meetings with the Chieftains and Champions regarding trade deals of Tabantha Wheat, Hylian Rice and various minerals, among other things. From what he could gather from the rumblings in the village, it seemed Komali was preparing to step down, so the meeting wound up serving as a training ground for Link and Teba both, and the two had bonded over their discomfort in trying to wade through unfamiliar political waters. Bludo, however, showed no signs of giving up his position, for all that he seemed far older than Komali, though he had been no less strict in his instruction of poor Yunobo, who seemed in good spirits for all that his Chief was running him ragged.

Normally, Zelda preferred to oversee all such discussions herself, however she’d been forced to remain in the in-progress Castle Town to oversee the construction as well as meet with a delegation of Zora who happened to be arriving at around the same time. It was at moments like these, Zelda had said, that she was glad that Link had such a strong relationship with the other races. As long as he had others there to support him, she felt reasonably comfortable allowing him to handle this, and besides, it was good practice for his future.

Link didn’t know about that. What he did know was that it was boring, and he loathed being away from his princess for so long. But if agreeing to this helped lessen her already daunting workload, then he would do it. She had been under a considerable amount of stress ever since the duo had completed their pilgrimage around the country and returned to Castle Town to officially begin reconstruction. Besides, there were enough trustworthy people in town to keep an eye on her while he was gone and keep her from getting into too much trouble.

The hustle and bustle of the marketplace seemed to have finally roused Link’s traveling companion from his stupor, and he straightened his posture on his horse somewhat stiffly, wincing as his spine unbent.

Link flashed him a crooked smile.

“You awake yet, Grante? We’re here.”

“I noticed.” The Sheikah replied tartly, stifling a yawn. “Goddesses, it’s cold… Can we get a move on already? I’m starving.”

Link snorted, but didn’t reply. What, did he expect him to kick his horse into a gallop in the middle of this crowd?

Grante was an interesting fellow; the son of Dr. Robbie, one of Zelda’s old researcher friends from before the Calamity, Link had met the young Sheikah male a handful of times in Tarrey Town before he’d faced Ganon and saved Zelda from her prison. While the two had gotten along well enough before, it wasn’t until returning to Castle Town that they had begun to form an actual friendship.

Grante had elected to tag along with the Goron brothers Greyson and Pelison to see about this new village and what he could do to help, and he and Link had wound up bonding over multiple scouting and monster camp raiding missions in their efforts to make Central Hyrule safe for travelers again. He was a smart man, roughly of age with Link, perhaps a year or two older, with a penchant for sarcasm and a somewhat dark sense of humor, but he was handy with a blade and had a keen sense of adventure, and Link found that the two got along rather well. However, it wasn’t duty to his country or his father that had kept the free-spirited young man in Castle Town, aiding in the restoration. It was a girl.

Grante was a charmer, the sort of man who was attractive and knew it and used it to his advantage. And yet the poor sop had found himself knocked off his feet moment that the second Kakariko delegation had arrived with Paya in tow (who had been sent in her grandmother’s place).

Apparently the two had known each other since they were children, but it had been many years since they’d last seen one another, and watching Grante’s myriad failed attempts to woo Paya, who was too shy and self-conscious to recognize his flirting for what it was, had easily become Link’s greatest source of entertainment.

That was why Grante had chosen to accompany Link when he had separated himself from the rest of the group the other morning, eager to be back in Castle Town as swiftly as possible. For Link, it was to get back to Zelda; for Grante, it was to get back to Paya, who had taken up residence as Zelda’s personal assistant and aid.

His Castle Town delegation had sent word ahead with a Rito merchant on their estimated date of return when they’d arrived at the Tabantha Stable, but breaking off from the group had enabled Link to cover ground more quickly. They were now nearly two days ahead of schedule; truth be told, he’d probably ridden Epona harder than he should have, but he was just so excited. He felt like a little kid again.

He couldn’t wait to see Zelda’s face. Would she be surprised? Or set him back to work as soon as he walked in the door? Probably both, if he were being honest. The thought made him grin.

A loud voice called out through the din, catching his attention. Link turned to look, but kept Epona moving at a steady pace along the path. He missed his friends, but nothing was going to stop him from getting to Zelda, not now that he was so close.

As it turned out, the owner of the voice was Bolson, who, along with Karson, was carrying a rather large stack of wood no doubt cut and hauled from the nearby Applean Forest. Both men looked sweaty and haggard; it was likely they’d already been hard at work now for hours, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

“Link! Howdy-doo~! Now there’s a studly face I haven’t seen in a long time!”

“Bolson! Karson!” Link replied genially as the two men turned to follow alongside his horse in spite of the fact that they were probably carrying the wood in the wrong direction, “Long time no see! How are things?”

Without missing a beat, Bolson caught a random man out of the throng and wordlessly dumped his portion of the load on his shoulder, ordering him and Karson to continue on with the delivery in his place. Karson sighed, casting Link a longsuffering look before moving along, the stranger struggling to follow, his expression confused and somewhat alarmed.

“How are things? Why, just take a look for yourself! Zelly wanted as many homes constructed before winter as we could manage, and I’d say we’re coming along swimmingly.”

“Absolutely.” Link agreed. “I barely even recognize the place. Was that a forge I saw earlier?”

“Yes sir!” Bolson replied, proud as a cucco, easily keeping pace with Link’s horse even as they left the crowded market area and began heading into the center of town. “The Gorons got the old quarry up and running again too, and with all of the treasure looted from the castle, merchants are flocking here by the dozens. Our little economy is booming, all thanks to our lovely princess.”

“How is the castle?” Link asked, his expression tensing as he turned his gaze on the ruin looming over them.

“Quiet.” Bolson replied, indifferent. “Zelda has guards patrol it once a day, and we’ve got lookouts manning the perimeter. There’s been nothing to suggest that we missed anything the first time.”

Link nodded, but remained uneasy. Shortly after arriving in Castle Town after leaving the plateau, Link and Zelda had met with the Sheikah who had been sent to survey the town and learned that, in the weeks since the Calamity’s defeat, monsters from the surrounding area had moved back into the abandoned castle. It had taken several days of meticulous searching and a veritable miniature army of fellow warriors, be they Sheikah sent by Impa or else Hylian, Goron, or Gerudo merchants recruited to play at being mercenaries to clear the infestation out again.

Entry into the castle was since strictly forbidden without express permission from Zelda and an armed escort, but even though most of the remaining treasure had already been removed, there were still plenty of people who wanted to go exploring, and while they were reasonably confident that all of the monsters had been removed, there was always the chance they were wrong or that more might move in without them noticing. Not to mention the lack of structural integrity; one-hundred years of housing such vast quantities of pure malice had apparently done a number on the foundation, eating away at the stone like a disease. For the moment, they were uncertain if the building could even be restored, or if it might not simply be better to tear it down and build another one.

Lost in his thoughts, Link only half-heard the rest of what Bolson had to say. News about the Zora securing the water ways, freeing up new means of travel. Talks of establishing a united militia once spring came again. The constant influx of merchants and travelers quickly establishing Castle Town once more as Hyrule’s center of trade. Attempts at the rehabilitation of farmland despite the lateness of the season, and the worries that hunting and trade alone might not be enough to feed the rapidly expanding population.

All of this was vital information, and worthy of discussing, but at the moment Link had a mind for only one thing.

A building appeared up ahead. The largest by far in the town, a massive wooden construction that, in any other village, would likely be mistaken for an inn given its rather plain exterior. It was no inn, however. The townsfolk had taken to calling it the ‘Wooden Castle’. It was Zelda’s home, as well as the place in which she conducted most of her meetings and thus spent most of her time.

She was there. He could feel it. Finally, Link was home.

Bolson must have caught sight of the look on Link’s face, because he cut off his still-ongoing narrative about the state of the town and rubbed at his upper lip knowingly.

“Well, I suppose I had better let the two of you go now. There’s work to do, see, and I can’t waste the entire morning talking to two handsome men like you. Come find me later, though, we need to have a boys’ night out.”

“Will do, Bolson.” Link replied, hardly paying attention.

“Oh, and tell Zelly I hope she’s feeling better. If Paya needs more wood for the stove, just let me know-“

“Wait, what?”

Link whipped his head back to Bolson, who was blinking up at Link in surprise. From behind, Grante’s mount plodded on past Epona, the Sheikah male apparently not paying any attention.

“What what?”

“What was that you said about Zelda feeling better?”

“Oh, that.” Bolson scratching his beard absently, casting a glance back towards the construction work he was currently not participating in. “It’s probably nothing. There’s a rumor going around that Zelda’s been ill for the past few days. She hasn’t come out of her house much is all. The poor girl’s probably overworked herself. Nothing to worry about. But then, I’m sure seeing you again will be just the pick-up she needs. Anyway, I gotta run. See you later, stud~!”

With a casual wave, Bolson dismissed himself, leaving Link frowning in his saddle.

She hadn’t left her house in the last couple of days? That wasn’t like her… she didn’t like being cooped up inside, especially not since… He shook his head, casting the thought aside.

Nonsense. Even if the rumor was true, it was probably just a cold or something. Nothing to worry about, just as Bolson said, and in any event, she was right there. He could just go check on her himself.

Before he knew it, he was pulling Epona up to the horse hitch right alongside Grante, who was busy exchanging greetings with the guard. Dorian was on duty today, sitting on the porch and whittling a chunk of wood into what might have been a duck, though he really couldn’t tell. Link returned the older man’s greeting pleasantly, acknowledging that yes, he had seen his children and no, the two hadn’t gotten into any trouble yet, at least that he’d seen.

At his side, Grante was staring at the front door with poorly restrained eagerness. Link snorted.

“You’re so easy to read, you know that?”

Grante flashed him a cheesy grin.

“I can’t help it. It’s been months since I last made her blush. This is going to be perfect; I can’t wait to see her face, it’ll be priceless. They aren’t expecting us for another full day at least.”

Link rolled his eyes but said nothing, electing to leave his saddlebags on his mount for the moment, his eagerness to see Zelda overwhelming his guilt over leaving Epona saddled with its weight for longer than was necessary. Kicking the dirt from his boots, he stepped up onto the porch and reached for the handle.

A grin split his face in two. He was home. Zelda was safe. Everything was as it should be.

He pulled the door open, letting the morning sunlight stream into the darkly lit house, and paused. That was odd. Why was it so dim? Did Zelda have no meetings today?

Stepping into the entry way, Link cast his eyes around the room. There weren’t any candles lit that he could see, which wasn’t that unusual given that sunlight from the windows generally lit up the interior well enough during the day, but the place still looked a little gloomier than usual, most of the curtains drawn tightly closed.

Also, it was quiet. Almost too quiet. Normally, if there wasn’t a meeting going on, Paya would be messing around in the kitchen, or else one of the girls she’d hired as a maid would be dusting the furniture or something of the like. Right now, however, there was no one to be seen or heard. The building was silent.

To the left was the drawing room, and beyond that, Zelda’s office, the door to which stood ajar, the desk cluttered with books and inkwells and quills. Both rooms were empty.

To the right was the dining room, almost completely obscured in shadow, the heavy drapes drawn over the windows. Before him stood the door to the kitchen (also empty) and the staircase, leading up to the second-floor balcony and the ornately carved banister that Karson had crafted all by himself. The hall above looked dark as well. Had none of the curtains been opened that morning? Where was Paya? And why was Zelda hiding in the dark like a woman in mourning?

Grante stepped in behind him, closing the door with a snap, not seeming to notice the darkness nor the general oddness of the house as his eyes scanned the perimeter just as Link’s had, no doubt searching for his special someone.

Link had had enough of waiting.

“Zelda?”

His voice was loud, echoing off the wooden walls, destroying the somber silence that had gripped the building like cobwebs engulfed in a sudden burst of flame.

There was a sound from upstairs like a thump, followed by a gasp and a flurry of movement. Link frowned. From of the sound of it, she was up in the bedroom… So late in the morning? It was nearly midday. Don’t tell him she was still sleeping at this hour. That wasn’t like her at all.

Before he could call out again, or do more than take off his gloves, a figure emerged from out of the upstairs hallway, all but flying toward the balcony as though she’d been pushed. She hit the banister with a bit too much force, making the newly-carved wood creek, and she clung to it tightly with white-knuckled hands as though the banister were the only thing holding her up.

It was Paya, looking frantic and pale-faced and out of breath. That at least wasn’t out of the ordinary.

What happened next, however, was. Grante straightened up, suddenly animated, flashing the girl his trademark winning smile, laying the charm on as thickly as he could muster, but to Link’s surprise, their shrinking Sheikah violet completely ignored him.

“L-Link!” She blurted out instead, sounding even fainter than usual. “Welcome… Welcome back! W-we didn’t expect you so s-soon!”

There was still some sort of commotion going on in the upstairs bedroom. It sounded like somebody was wrestling a rather unruly pig. Was somebody else here?

He tried to shrug it off, flashing Paya a warm smile of his own. He wasn’t besotted with her like Grante was, but he considered her a friend and had missed her all the same.

“Yeah, we were a little eager to get home, so we broke off from the group and headed out a little earlier than we’d intended…”

Paya was hardly paying him any attention. She kept casting frenzied looks down the hall as though checking on whatever was happening upstairs.

“Is everything ok?’

Paya jumped as though she’d been electrocuted.

“W-w-what?! Oh, y-yes, everything is... fine! Perfectly normal! We are- I mean, I am- I mean…”

Link glanced at Grante to gauge his opinion of Paya’s stranger-than-usual behavior, only the other man was too busy trying to hide his hurt over the fact that Paya hadn’t even acknowledged his presence yet. Normally, even the mention of Grante was enough to set the girl off on a red-faced stammering fit. Only now, it was as though he were invisible.

Another thump sounded out from the bedroom, followed by a hiss and a muffled curse.

What on earth was going on up there?!

Before he could ask any more questions, a second figure emerged from the darkness of the second-floor hallway and joined Paya up on the balcony. Only, it wasn’t Zelda.

It was an unfamiliar Sheikah woman, perhaps in her fifties (though it was hard to say with Sheikah sometimes), with long silver hair done up in a tight bun and a pinched, unimpressed face. She shot Link a long, considering look before shaking her head and turning back to Paya, who suddenly stood at attention as if this foreign woman were her commanding officer.

“I’ll be back on the ‘morrow to check on her. You would do well to wash off that perfume. It’s certainly lovely, but I’ve no doubt it’s what set her off. She’ll be more sensitive to such things from here on, so keep that in mind, and remember that no matter what she says, she is not to be allowed to drink anymore wine, only goat’s milk and water. And be firm; you mustn’t let her bully you.”

“Y-yes!” Paya squeaked, looking positively mortified. “O-of course, my apologies! I-it won’t happen again!”

The woman sniffed as though to show what she thought of the likelihood of that, then turned to flash Link another look that was positively disdainful before sweeping past Paya and descending the stairs with all the arrogance of a queen. Both Link and Grante nodded to her and offered her their greetings, but she ignored them entirely, vanishing out the door without another word.

“What on earth was that all about?” Link asked after an awkward moment of silence. Grante shrugged.

For her part, Paya looked as though she were on the verge of fainting, but she was rescued from any more questioning by a soft voice from the hallway above that said, barely loud enough for Link to hear, “Paya… would you give us some privacy?”

Was that Zelda? It had to have been, no one else should be here. But then, why did she sound so frail? And why was she still hiding in the hallway?

Paya seemed only too willing to comply to Zelda’s request, and a moment later she’d all but flown down the staircase, shocking both Link and Grante when she reached out and snagged the Sheikah male by the arm (Link had never seen her willingly reach out and touch a man before, particularly not one around whom she was usually so abashed) and physically dragged him backwards toward the front door with a harassed, “C-come, Grante! The Princess and her Hero need some p-privacy!”

Before Link could blink, the door shut behind them with a resounding snap, cutting off Grante’s parting farewell with a foreboding sort of finality.

Slowly, he turned his attention back to the balcony, only to find Zelda fully emerged from the hall where she’d been hiding. Joy and relief surged through him the moment his eyes landed on her frame, but a moment later he was caught by the distinct impression that something about her had changed.

She had chosen to wear a dress today rather than the pants and tunic he was accustomed to seeing her in; it was one of her less-formal outfits and it enveloped her in a pleasant cream-like color, though he noted that this dress was a tad looser than the ones she normally wore, and it seemed ruffled, as though she’d put in on in a hurry. To his consternation, her face looked pale and, though he’d be remiss to voice this aloud, slightly chubbier than he remembered. Her expression was tense, her hands clasped together in front of her midsection in a would-be casual manner were it not for the fact that she was clenching her fingers together so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

She flashed him a strained smile in the facsimile of her usual cheerful greeting, but her eyes, he noted, were directed at his boots.

“Welcome home.”

Something was wrong.

“Zelda…” Link returned slowly, moving to shrug off his satchel, unable to take his eyes off her. Feeling uneasy, he hung the bag on a hook near the front door and hastily removed his coat, setting his boot on the bottom step as though to ascend to meet her.

“Ah, Link, wait.” she cut in, suddenly nervous, her gaze shifting to somewhere just past his shoulder. “I know how tired you must be from your journey, however there’s something I… something we need to… to talk about. Would you…” Here she hesitated, clearly struggling with her words, her fingers kneading together anxiously.

After a moment’s hesitation, she finally settled on, “You should probably take a seat. Would you… can we adjourn to the dining room?”

Link nodded, but red flags were flying up before his eyes. _Adjourn to the dining room?_ Since when did she speak to him in such a formal manner? What on earth could have happened that had her so on edge?

He stepped away from the staircase and a moment later entered the dining room, arguably the most important section of the house. It was here that Zelda held all her meals and important meetings, though truth be told it didn’t look so very different from the dining rooms of most other houses he’d been inside, if only slightly larger. A rather ornate table took up most of the space, the wood so dark it was almost black, complete with a matching set of a dozen chairs, all of them carved and gifted to her by Bolson and Karson.

Though simple in design, the furniture was nevertheless masterfully crafted and felt every bit as regal as the princess it was meant to employ. The rest of the room was simple, sporting a few paintings on the walls and a pair of unlit braziers in the corners, meant to provide additional light and warmth in the evenings. A vase sat in the center of the table atop a small, intricately patterned cloth, though the flowers seemed brittle, as though they hadn’t been tended to in days.

As it was, lit only by the light of the sun streaming through the windows of other rooms, the dining room felt dark and foreboding, smothered in a secluded shroud of shadows.

She followed him down the stairs a moment later but ignored the chair he’d pulled out for her at his side, instead opting to sit at the far end of the table as though this were simply another diplomatic meeting on her docket for the afternoon.

Everything about his princess in that moment, from the thinly-veiled tension in her shoulders to the jerkiness of her movements and the fact that she still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, had Link set firmly on edge. Yes, something was definitely wrong… and it had to be something serious if it was affecting her this strongly, strongly enough to make her afraid to speak with him. But what on earth could be so terrifying outside of the resurgence of Calamity Ganon?

As Link drew his own newly lacquered chair back to take his seat at her pristine dining room table, trying to avoid how uncomfortable he felt being seated so far away from her, his thoughts turned to Bolson, the man who had crafted this lovely furniture, and then to the conversation the two had just had as he made his way through the village.

Rumors claimed that Zelda had been feeling under the weather as of late… She’d looked pale and green when he’d first laid eyes on her, not at all excited to see him after so long apart, which was unusual in and of itself but not unheard of- she might have simply been under an increased amount of pressure that morning, or perhaps she hadn’t slept well… However there had been an older Sheikah woman with her as well… Certainly not a doctor, if they even had such anymore, but perhaps a medical specialist of some sort? That is, if Bolson’s rumors had any weight to them. An herbalist, perhaps? Someone who specialized in treating the sick?

At the thought of Zelda potentially being ill, panic overtook him. If it was something simple, like a cold, she wouldn’t be tiptoeing around the matter, which could only mean it was something serious. Something serious…

Oh gods. Please, no. Please don’t let it be anything like that. He could handle anything, anything but that. Please, let it be another monster, or a war, or another demon, or… something he could face with sword in hand, something he could rip apart with his hands. He couldn’t fight an illness with courage and strength alone.

“Yes. Well.” She began, somewhat awkwardly, shifting to lay her hands nervously on the table before returning them once more to her lap. “It is good to see you, Link. I trust your visit to the Rito Village went well?”

Link nodded mutely. Honestly, he didn’t care about politics or trade deals right now, and he could tell neither did she. She was dragging this out because she was afraid.

Zelda let out a shaky sigh, returning her hands to the table top once more and wriggling her fingers together. She was completely out of sorts. She normally did a much better job hiding her worries and insecurities, at least from people who didn’t know her well, but her body language was practically screaming that something was wrong. He wanted to reach out and still her fingers, but the table was too large for him to reach her.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you in here.” She continued, before pausing again to worry her lip between her teeth. “I have… news. Something… something has… happened…”

She sounded scared. Scared and unsure.

When he didn’t reply automatically, she cleared her throat and pressed on, looking even more sickly than she had before.

“You may wish to prepare yourself, Link… I hadn’t… I mean, obviously, I hadn’t the chance to prepare for this personally, however you…”

Link’s throat was dry, his hands gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that the muscles in his forearms were beginning to knot up. Every moment she dragged this out, his panic only increased.

She shook her head distractedly, abandoning whatever her previous line of thought had been and started again.

“I think I… that I might be…  or rather, I’m quite certain that I… that I’m…”

“Zelda…” He let out, his voice raspy, trying his best to seem supportive in spite of the terror that was gripping him, “I-it’s ok, you can tell me-“

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence filled the house once more.

Link opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. Then closed it.

Pregnant? What sort of illness was…?

Then it clicked. Time seemed to slow. The air around him grew thick and syrupy. His vision tunneled until he could only see her sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Pregnant… Zelda was pregnant… Zelda was with child. His child, presumably. No, don’t be stupid, of course it was his child. She was going to have his child. He was going to be a father. And she was going to be its mother.

His hands were still clenching the armrests of his chair, but he could no longer feel them. Some undefined emotion surged up inside of him, powerful and raw, seizing his esophagus in a vice-grip, preventing him from speaking or breathing.

Pregnant.

Something in his chest was expanding.

Zelda was pregnant.

Whatever it was, it was warm and familiar and felt suspiciously like joy…

His princess was pregnant.

The bubble popped. Cold dread sunk in.

The Princess of Hyrule was pregnant. The Princess of Hyrule was pregnant, with his child. Out of wedlock.

What would the people think?

She had worked so long and so hard to cultivate her public image; one of confidence and wisdom and grace, friendliness and hope. Maturity despite her young age.

While it was true that the average Hyrulean still had no idea what being royalty truly entailed, that didn’t mean that the public would be willing to overlook a potential scandal of this magnitude; princess or not, he doubted they’d be forgiving of a girl of barely seventeen years (not including her century-long imprisonment) becoming pregnant outside of the bonds of matrimony, especially if said girl was supposed to be their responsible, rational, level-headed leader. He may have very well irreparably damaged her standing in the eyes of the country.

Lost in his own personal whirlpool of fear and shame, he found himself asking, his voice hoarse and grating, “Who knows?”

There was a pause, and then, in barely more than a whisper, “…Only Paya, and the midwife.”

Momentary relief flooded through Link’s veins. So, the people hadn’t found out yet… The situation could still be salvaged. Paya wasn’t the type to spread rumors, and while he didn’t know this midwife (presumably, she was the stern woman who had just left), had she spoken out the entire town would have been ablaze with gossip.

Zelda spoke again, her fragile voice breaking through the chaotic torrent of his thoughts.

“I… I meant for you to be the first to know, as soon as I was certain, however you were gone for so long, and… and I needed somebody to talk to…”

Link glanced up, tearing his gaze away from the immaculately crafted dining room table and the maelstrom of panic and fear coursing through his veins only to find Zelda huddled in on herself on the opposite side of the table, her head bowed, her shoulders quaking.

Immediately, he replayed her confession in his head, and his ensuing reaction.

Oh gods.

He was on his feet in a flash, nearly upending his chair, rounding the table, kneeling at Zelda’s side and taking her gently by the arms.

“Zelda…” he breathed, frantic, his heart in his throat, “Zelda, wait, It’s not… It’s not what you think…”

Up close, even in the darkness, he could see just how red and puffy her eyes had become. Tears were steadily leaking down her cheeks, dripping onto her lap. She was trembling. Guilt gnawed away at his insides.

“Zelda-“

“I’m sorry.” She cut in, her voice barely more than a whisper.

In spite of the situation, a breathless laugh escaped past his lips.

“What on earth for?” He asked, struggling to make his voice steady and kind as he reached out a hand to cup her cheek and turn her face toward him. To his dismay, his hands were shaking just as badly as she was. “This isn’t any more your fault than it is mine, and… Zelda, I’m not upset.”

Finally, she met his gaze. The tears in her eyes only made her irises that much greener.

“Y-you’re not?”

“Of course not. I was just… surprised, is all.”

He used his thumb to brush away some of her tears, tucking her hair back behind her ear while he struggled to gather his thoughts. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, something encouraging, something that would take away all her fear, but nothing was coming to mind. Not for the first time, he wished he was better with words.

His princess stared at him for a moment, her eyes unreadable, and then she caught him off-guard once again by throwing herself off her chair and into his surprised embrace, almost knocking him onto his backside. Her arms wrapped themselves tightly around his torso as she buried her face in his chest, heedless of how she was no doubt dirtying the dress she had on as she tried and failed to quell her heart-wrenching sobs.

Link chose not to comment on how there were plenty of perfectly usable seats in the house they could be using, several of which were in the same room, instead opting to shift his legs until he was sitting on the floor as well so he could settle back against the dining room wall, his own arms wrapping gently around Zelda’s midsection, afraid to hold her too tightly. A moment of quiet passed, in which Zelda threatened to fall apart completely in his arms and Link struggled to hold her together.

Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, Zelda’s tears subsided and she whispered, her voice sticky and weak, “I’m so afraid.”

“I know you are.” Link murmured back, gently stroking her hair. He hesitated a moment before confessing, “So am I. I’m sorry you had to deal with this alone until now.”

“What are we going to do?”

He knew what she was really asking; what were they going to do about her people? What if the scandal lost her the confidence of those she was meant to rule? The confidence she had only just barely managed to win? The very thing he himself had been panicking about only a moment earlier.

He chose not to acknowledge that just then, however, instead turning her question around in a different direction.

“We’re going to love it.” He replied softly, kissing her on the top of her head, forcing as much optimism into his tone that he could muster. “And spoil it rotten. And pray to every god we know that it turns out looking like you.”

Something like the ghost of a smile flickered across her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She turned to look up at him.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

“Neither did I.” He admitted, then winced as a thought occurred to him. “But if we’re being honest, we… sort of had this coming.”

After all, they… hadn’t exactly been careful. Neither of them were stupid; they’d known what they were doing, yet somehow, at the time, he hadn’t seemed to care. He wanted to reach back into the past and throttle his old self.

He sent her a sloppy smile to show he was teasing her, but though she tried to smile back, he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. He sighed.

“Anyway, as far as unexpected surprises go, we’ve certainly dealt with worse. We’ll get through this just like we get through everything. Together.”

He’d tried for an upbeat, encouraging tone, but he worried she could hear the insecurity and fear he was trying to desperately to hide for her sake. She stared at him for a moment, her expression soft and vulnerable, her eyes quietly boring into his own.

“…Are you really alright with this?”

Link shrugged, trying for a smile that came out a bit more twisted than he would have liked.

“I won’t pretend like this is happening at the ideal time, or that we’re in the best of situations, but…” Here he took a deep, shaky breath, and tried to put as much conviction in to his next sentence as he could muster; to his surprise, he didn’t have to work very hard. “I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to start a family with you one day. That day just came sooner than we expected.”

She bit her lip, then turned and settled her head back against him, her arms tightening around his torso.

“I was so afraid of how you would react…”

The guilt in his navel swelled, threatening to consume him.

“I’m sorry-“

“No, no… I should have had more faith in you…”

She turned, nuzzling his sternum with her forehead.

“I haven’t been thinking straight recently.” She confessed softly. “It’s just so much… reconstruction, preparing for my coronation, reforging political ties, all of the pressures of becoming queen, all of the day to day minutia, and now, on top of everything…”

Her voice broke, and she was quiet for a moment, her shoulders quaking as she desperately fought not to dissolve into tears again.

Link didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t the first time she’d cried in his arms, not by a long-shot, but normally when one of them was at a low point, the other would be there to pull them back up. However this time, Link felt just as scared and unprepared a she was. Somehow, in its own strange way, the concept that Zelda was pregnant was almost as terrifying as the Calamity.

They sat there for a moment, huddled together on the floor in the dark. Finally, in a voice choked with fear and anger, she cried out, “I’m not ready to be a mother!”

Link sighed, burying his face in her hair.

“I know.” He whispered, swallowing roughly past the large lump that had formed in his throat; truth be told, a significant part of him wanted to give in to his fear alongside her. The only thing keeping him together in that moment was the knowledge that she needed him. “I’m not ready to be a father either... But we’re not alone in this, Zelda. We have each other, and we have our friends. We’ll get through this.”

Zelda shuddered against him.

“I don’t want to think about how the others will react…”

“How did Paya take it?” he asked out of genuine curiosity, hoping the slight change in topic might help her calm down.

“Like you would imagine.” She mumbled, removing one of her arms from around him so she could wipe unsteadily at her eyes. “At first she was shocked, and then embarrassed, and then for a while she was walking on eggshells around me, afraid to do or say anything that might make me upset.”

“So, nothing changed?”

She flicked his arm and he let out a raspy laugh.

“Ever since, she’s been too afraid to let me bend over or pick anything up even though I haven’t even really begun to show yet. Honestly, it’s a little irritating. You’d think I was made of glass.”

“That still sounds like regular Paya to me.”

“And, well…” Here she hesitated, a new emotion entering her voice; she almost sounded… embarrassed. “For the last few days, she’s been pestering me to help her pick out baby names.”

A sudden smile broke out across Link’s face, catching him completely by surprise. Baby names… As in, a name for their baby. Their baby. Zelda was having his baby.  

Perhaps in a response to the unexpected surge of warmth and joy that erupted inside of him, tangling up confusingly with his still-present fear and doubt, Link found himself blurting out without thinking, “Whatever we decide to name it, it’s not going to end in ‘-son’, no matter what Bolson says.”

To his delight, his comment brought about an unexpected snort of laughter from his princess. He wasn’t sure if she actually found his comment funny or if the stress of her latest revelation had finally driven her mad, but he grinned all the same. He hadn’t heard her laugh in months. Even if it was just for a moment, the sound of it did a number on his mental state. The darkness of the dining room somehow seemed less intense.

Zelda sighed again, pulling herself in closer.

“I wish I wasn’t the princess.” She murmured softly, not for the first time. “Then, at least, we could simply run away and no one would ever be the wiser. There would be no one to judge us, no pressure from the kingdom, no worries about public opinion…”

He neglected to mention that running away was still technically an option. He knew that, no matter how bad things became or how poorly the public reacted to the news, she would never abandon her duty to Hyrule. This was merely a form of venting, some way to deal with her stress. But still…

“There… might still be a way for us to mitigate the situation in the eyes of the public…”

His tone was hesitant. She looked up at him, a knowing expression in her eyes, but she remained quiet, prompting him to finish his thought.

“We could go ahead and get married.”

He hated the fact that he was suggesting this now. Sure, they had discussed marriage before, but they had decided to wait until after Castle Town was officially rebuilt and Zelda had had her coronation, for no other reason than because they were simply too busy with the reconstruction to expend any time, money, or effort on a big wedding. He knew she’d been toying with the idea of holding the ceremony on the day of her coronation, but nothing had been set in stone and they had both had too much on their plates recently to discuss it any further.

Zelda offered him a sad smile. “I knew you were going to say that.”

“Zelda, I didn’t mean it like-“

“I know, Link. I know.” She cut in gently, returning to her previous embrace, and all at once she as the one comforting him. “But you’re right, and it might work; I’m sure the average Hyrulean won’t pay too much attention to the time frame, and we might even be able to pass it off as having been born early if we marry quickly enough… but the people closest to us will be harder to trick.”

“Then why try to hide it?”

She shuffled anxiously against him, but didn’t answer.

“Zelda… the people who matter most won’t care. Paya is the most prudish of the bunch, but in your own words she’s more excited than scandalized. King Dorephan and Sidon will be too busy being delighted to remember that they’re supposed to disapprove. I can’t see Yunobo or any of the Goron caring one way or the other. Teba will probably give me a lecture on being irresponsible, but you know he and Saki will be behind you one-hundred percent. And the only way Riju or the Gerudo will be upset is if you wind up having a boy.”

She smiled softly at the last, but turned to cast him a shrewd look.

“I notice you forgot to mention how Impa will react.”

Her eyes were still red, and her voice still scratchy, but there was a playfulness to her tone that Link clung to, desperate to ride it out for as long as he could.

“I forgot nothing.” Link denied firmly. “I merely… chose not to mention her.”

“She’s going to kill us.”

“She’s going to kill me.” Link corrected. “You’ll get a scolding at most; I can’t see her laying a hand on a pregnant woman. I, however, will be skinned alive.”

She chuckled again, and Link delighted at the way the smile cast off the shadows on her face, even if only for a moment.

“…Do you really believe they’ll accept it without judging?”

Link sighed again. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d done that since coming home.

He wanted to tell her yes, that their friends cared more about them than propriety, and while that was certainly true…

“I’m not saying everything will go smoothly at first. There will probably be some shocked faces, some disappointment, some judging… nobody’s perfect, neither you or I, nor the rest of your people. But just like with Paya, I am completely confident that it won’t be long before they come around to the idea and are openly happy for us.”

“I hope you’re right.” She whispered.

“I am. You know I am. I can practically see it now; imagine the look on Bolson’s face when we tell him. I bet you a thousand rupees he tries to throw us a party and plan the entire wedding himself. Chances are good he’ll start work on carving us a cradle before we can even ask.”

A slow smile blossomed on her face and she mouthed the word ‘cradle’ in silent wonder, but she remained quiet, and he took that as his prompting to go on.

“I’m sure Kass will want to create his very own special lullaby for us, though I don’t know if accordions are very good at putting children to sleep or not. Purah will no doubt have some sort of wacky gadget for our child to play with, assuming she doesn’t try to run any experiments on it first. We… may actually need to keep it away from her for a while. I’m sure I can convince Pikango to make us a picture book when it comes time to teach them to read. And then of course the Champions will probably play their parts.”

The strange thing was, Link had started talking in an effort to comfort Zelda, and yet… the more he talked about his friends and the future of their child, the better he felt about it himself. He was still afraid, for her and for himself and how on earth he was going to pull off being a father when he couldn’t remember ever having one himself, however he was no longer struggling to put excitement into his words. They came tumbling out of his mouth, faster and faster, quicker than he had time to think about them.

“If we have a girl, I can see Riju taking to her like she was her aunt. Buliara would probably try to teach her the spear; if we’re not careful, our little princess might just become a Gerudo warrior right under our noses. Sidon and Teba won’t care either way, though Yunobo might feel a little more comfortable around a boy. I doubt it will matter too much one way or the other-“

“What would we name him?” Zelda cut in, her voice, still weak, now overflowing with anticipation.

Link hesitated, having an answer picked out but uncertain how she would react.

“How about… Rhoam?”

Her body stiffened in his arms, and he silently kicked himself for ruining the good mood he’d finally managed to build. A moment passed in silence, and then slowly Zelda turned her face up to his, her eyes flooded with tears once again.

“I would like that.” She whispered, smiling weakly, her expression so full of love that Link couldn’t help but smile in relief.

“Alright then.” He agreed softly. “It’s a deal. And then if it’s a girl-“

“Aryll.” Zelda cut in, looking determined. “If it’s a girl, I want to name her Aryll.”

Link felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“I-isn’t it tradition to name the firstborn female Zelda?” He asked faintly.

“Tradition, not law. But I don’t want my children to grow up as I did, suffocating under the weight of a life they couldn’t choose. I know… I know that, as royalty, they won’t have the freedoms other children have… but at the very least, I don’t want my daughter to live the life I lead. Even if it’s just her name… I want her to be different.”

“Ok.” Link replied quietly, and she smiled.

Another moment passed as the two stared quietly into each other’s eyes, content to enjoy a moment of peace after the veritable whirlwind of emotion that was Zelda’s surprise announcement, silently drawing strength from the other’s company.

Finally, Zelda lay her head back down against Link’s chest, surprising him by snuggling in closer.

“Tell me more about our child.”

Link laughed.

“Alright. They’ll grow up here, in Castle Town, inheriting their father’s love of adventure and their mother’s intuitive brain and legendary beauty. You’ll teach them how to rule, but also how to love, and how to live. As they grow up, they’ll run around here in the streets of Castle Town with the rest of the children, tormenting Paya, getting into trouble with Bolson, and generally driving us both insane.

“But above all, they’ll be safe. Safe from destinies they can’t avoid and battles that can’t be won and sacrifices that should never have to be made. And most of all, from a Calamity that will never touch them. We’ll be happy. All of us, together.”

They sat like that on the floor together for a while longer, slowly soaking each other in and the terrifying reality that awaited them in just a few short months’ time. And to think, Link had actually thought life was going to get easier from here on out… what a naïve fool he had been.

Looking down at Zelda, however, and seeing the fear and excitement in her tear-stained eyes, he knew he didn’t regret it. He had risked everything for this future, a future of new hope and freedom and possibility. And what did this child represent if not the culmination of everything he had fought for for so long?

Hyrule’s future was right on the horizon. And he was holding it in his arms.

After a little while longer, right as his legs were starting to get sore, Zelda turned to him and offered him a weak smile. She seemed better, now. More put together. Still afraid, but not overwhelmed. It was the best he could hope for at the moment; after all, he wasn’t feeling much better himself.

“So… when do you think would be best?”

Link stared, not comprehending.

“The wedding.” She clarified, somewhat impatient, and Link blinked.

“Oh, right! Um, well… whenever is fine, I guess. Sooner is probably better than later, but then we have the guests to consider… Have you given it any thought since the last time we spoke, or…?”

“Not particularly. I thought we had more time, and I was more concerned about the coronation… Which, honestly, I had been hoping to have it at the Temple of Time.”

Link gaped, horrified, and she hastened to explain.

“Obviously that won’t work anymore. It was just a thought I had been toying around with, before… well, before. It seemed… auspicious, to hold both my coronation and our wedding in that location, the place where legends claimed Hyrule had originally been founded. Not to mention the religious significance of the temple itself, and… well… it was the last place you saw my father’s spirit.”

Something like guilt nibbled away at him, and he opened his mouth to promise Zelda that he’d find some way to have their wedding in that temple if it was the last thing he did, but she cut him off.

“No, I know what you’re going to say, but no. If we had all the time in the world, perhaps, however… I want us to be wedded before our child comes into this world, and I don’t want to make everyone else jump through hoops just for me.”

That was fair… besides, preparing the Temple of Time for a wedding was no small feat. Even getting up there in the first place for anyone who wasn’t a Rito or a Zora, who could fly or scale the waterfall near the River of the Dead, or a skilled mountaineer like Link, would be a tremendous effort. They would have to rebuild the outer walls of the plateau, where the staircases were held, and that alone could take months. Months they did not have.

While he was saddened that Zelda’s ideal wedding and coronation was now out of the picture, a part of him was a little relieved. He didn’t want to think about the tole a trek like that would take on a pregnant woman. Especially if she had to climb all those stairs.

“We’ll simply have to hold the wedding here.”

Link nodded. “That sounds best. If we get started now, we might be able to have it in a few months, assuming the other races are amenable to traveling in the snow. Or we could try to wait until the spring, although that might be pushing it…”

It was autumn now. He wasn’t certain on the particulars of pregnancy, but if he was right in assuming when she’d become pregnant, then that meant sometime late summer before he’d left for the Rito Village, which put the due date sometime after the new year, near winter’s end.

“It will have to be the spring. The Zora won’t be able to travel as easily until the ice melts. It should be well, Goddess-willing. I’m more concerned with getting the town ready to host so many people. We’re still in the midst of reconstruction, the builders will riot.”

Link scoffed.

“Please. Just put Bolson on the case. He could get it done himself if he had to. Which he won’t, because he rules the craftsmen with an iron fist.”

“Are you certain? I know he’s reliable, but it’s still so much work-“

“Trust me, Zelda. That man loves a good wedding. And in any event, you’ve got enough on your plate as it is. Let me worry about getting the town ready. Give me the important details, and I’ll find some way to get this all organized. Paya will probably be willing to lend me a hand, and I can rope Grante into helping out too. We’ll need a guest list, a location, somebody to perform the ceremony-”

“Kapson will be our officiator.” Zelda suddenly declared emphatically, catching Link by surprise.

“Oh yeah? You sound like you already had him picked out.”

“I did.” She replied, not going into detail. “As for the guests of importance, we’ll also need to invite the new Champions, of course, as well as at least the leaders of the different races, although I’m sure most of the Zora will want to attend, be they the elderly who remember my father or your childhood friends.  And then Kass and his family, and Purah and Symon and Robbie, of course, and Hudson and Rhondson. Oh, and Hunnie-“

“Hunnie? That girl with the cake obsession?”

“Of course! There’s going to be cake, how can we let her miss it?”

Link stared at his soon-to-be-wife in absolute bemusement. Her fear from earlier seemed to have been momentarily forgotten, her eyes, still a little red, were now alive and sparkling with excitement. For a moment, he thought he could see it, that ‘glow’ people talked about whenever a woman was expecting. He’d always thought that was just sentimental nonsense, but now…

He was so in love with her. Here, in this moment, he’d never felt the truth of it more strongly. She was his, and he was hers, and before long, the two would become three…

She was having his baby.

“Is there anyone else you’d like to invite?” She asked, poking him in the stomach, drawing him out of his delirious stupor.

“Beedle.” He replied instantly. “Grante, of course, and Pikango. Perhaps Hestu and some of the Koroks, if they’re willing to make the journey. Some of my old Zora friends. You’ve pretty much listed everybody else who needs to be there.”

There was a pause as the two soon-to-be parents stared into each other’s eyes.

“This is going to be a lot of work, isn’t it?” Link sighed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, and Zelda let out a laugh.

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’d be happy with a short, quiet wedding if we could get away with it, but as the future queen-”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He replied, reaching forward to play with a strand of her hair. “I can wait. What’s a few more months after the hundred years we’ve already put up with? Besides… I’ll finally be able to kiss you in public without worrying what your guards will do to me.”

“As if every one of them doesn’t already know-“

He cut her off with his lips. When they separated, she remained close, gazing silently into his eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Both of you.”

He tickled her stomach with the tips of his fingers and she swatted his hand away with a smile.

“So, now what? I suppose I ought to finally let you get some rest?”

“That would be nice.” He laughed. “Though getting off the floor first sounds like a good idea. And then maybe some food-“

“Or…” She cut in, her voice taking on a now-familiar husky tone, “we could adjourn to the bedroom and I could welcome you home properly…”

A wave of discomfort washed over him, and Link reached up to scratch at his neck awkwardly.

“Um… Are… we still allowed to do that?”

She stared into his face, nonplussed, and then let out a snort of laughter.

“What?” he replied, suddenly indignant.

Rather than explain, she kept on laughing, so much so that she could barely get to her feet even with Link’s help.

His face was red. It was possible that it was just stress that was making her laugh so much, but it was more likely that he’d just said something extremely foolish and she was making fun of him. Before he could find some way to get her back, she took him by the arm and practically dragged him up the stairs, laughing all the while.

As he followed along, looking up at the back of her head as she led him up the staircase of her home (their home), his indignation slowly began to fade.

This was it, he thought. This is your future from here on out. The future you worked and fought and bled for.

The Calamity had well and truly ended. Hyrule was in the midst of its new beginning, but it was a new beginning for Link as well. One with a home; with friends, and a purpose, and a wife, and a child already on the way. A family all his own.

A grin split across his face, and a moment later he was speeding up, scooping Zelda up in his arms, his heart racing at the way she shrieked in both fear and delight.

Though deep down he was still afraid, still ill-prepared for the terrifying new path that awaited him, stretching on to the horizon, he knew that all would be well so long as she was there. Zelda, his princess, his best friend and companion, his future queen and wife-to-be, the mother of his child. So long as he had her there, walking alongside him, he could face whatever the future might bring.

And from where he was standing, that future had never looked as bright or as promising.

And it would only get better from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. That's it! It's over! 
> 
> Thanks for givin' this a read, and for all of the support! I hope it was as enjoyable for you all as it was for me. 
> 
> I guess I'll see you all next time. 'Til then, Keep it Zesty. 
> 
> ZC


End file.
